


With Our History Before Us

by no1knowsiwritefanfics



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angsty First Chapter, Blood Drinking, Dracula - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, In which our Heroes stop the Apocalypse, M/M, Multi, Or does the Apocalypse stop our heroes?, Probably Going to Edit This Later, Seriously though I'm sorry for that first chapter, Time Travel, Trevor curses a lot, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2019-11-06 18:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no1knowsiwritefanfics/pseuds/no1knowsiwritefanfics
Summary: A Hunter, a Vampire, and a Speaker face the Apocalypse.They died.And then they didn't.Second chances are a bitch.With all the memories of their death still fresh in their minds, they're offered a second chance: Start at the beginning. Save Lisa Tepes. Kill Carmilla. Make things right.But can fate really be changed?Based on the Netflix Series.





	1. A Fool's Guide to Emotions in the Apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems as though I can't escape my love of Vampires, so here I am again tackling the Castlevania series. I've always been a huge fan of the games, and Netflix's show was just excellent! Ignore the dramatic angst in this first chapter. It'll get better. I think. I dunno, let's find out!

_I'm going to die here._

It wasn't what he'd expected. Given the lifestyle he lived, he had imagined a hundred ways he would die - fighting tooth and nail in an epic fight, for example, or going out at the end of the blade while taking a hellbeast with him; Perhaps even saving his loved ones and an entire village from Satan himself. Maybe they would even write a drunken song about him to sing in the taverns.

Trevor Belmont. Hero of this village and slayer of monsters.

Or alternately: Damn, that Trevor Belmont was such a drunk troublesome bastard.

Yeah. That last one was more likely.

But this. He hadn't quite expected this; to be bleeding slowly in the open, on his back, gasping for the smallest breath of air. A pathetic death, really. He supposed, in retrospect, given everything that had happened in his life thus far, he deserved this instead. His ancestors were probably laughing in the afterlife.

Yes, for every drunken bar fight, for every apathetic retort to requests for help, for every curse toward every god he could think of, he deserved this.

But they didn't.

His heart clenched.

_Get up._

The will was there – Truly it was – But the body had given up long ago. There was a disconnect between mind, nerve, and muscle. Was his mind already trapped within a corpse? Damn, that was a chilling thought. He wanted to scream.

_GET UP._

His arms and legs ached as though he had made the move, but he hadn't. They were useless extensions, nothing but flesh and broken bone. He wanted to laugh – or maybe cry? Was physical pain an emotion? Whatever, he was never good with emotions in the first place.

He drew in a deep breath, bringing with it dust and the scent of decay. The sudden jab of pain and tainted air choked him, and he coughed suddenly, harshly. Agony seized his lungs and radiated through his heart, his torso, his damn useless limbs.

Trevor Belmont. God's greatest joke.

Screams were still echoing throughout the air; The nightmarish soundtrack to his demise. He wished they'd stop. And the scent of blood was overpowering, nauseating. God, this was misery. How did vampires enjoy that smell? Perhaps he was smelling his own blood. After all, he was laying in a fucking pool of it. Made sense that he would hate the smell of his own blood.

He drifted, floated, came crashing down between dreams and the present. A flutter of eyelids and his eyes focused on the brick building near his feet. So much blood. Slowly, numbly, his gaze followed the trail of crimson upward to land on the light haired, elegant figure pinned against the brick wall – Conscious, but just barely.

The metal rod had gone through Alucard's chest and embedded itself into the brick wall behind him. His white shirt was no longer white at all; it was red. The violent dye had soaked into his black trench coat and leather pants, dripping steadily from his boots.

They had stretched out his arms and driven nails through his wrists to hold them in place; a mockery of the church and of the prophecy.

Their sleeping soldier.

Their savior.

_Please get up._

Trevor would take back every biting insult and sarcastic taunt. He would publicly praise Alucard as superior to him in every way - Make flyers if he had to; Sing songs of the great dhampir.

He would do this, gladly, if only it would save him from this fate.

A choking sound escaped Trevor. An emotion of pain. He was always bad at addressing emotions. Didn't Sypha fuss at him for that? Many times, actually.

Alucard's dull gaze shifted to Trevor's. His eyes were no longer golden; they were a vicious red from the battle. Somewhere, the flittering idea that his eyes matched his shirt. His hair, a golden halo framing that flawless face, as heavenly as a painting of Jesus on the cross, with eyes as red as sin. The goddamn bastard was still beautiful even as he was dying. What an ass. Eat shit and –

_You can't die on me yet, you bastard._

The dhampir's bloody stare flickered with recognition; sharp as an execution blade, as though he could communicate something through will alone. No words, just emotions. Why was it coming down to this again?

_Please don't, Alucard._

Sorrow, regret – A thank you, definitely. Hunter and Dhampir. Enemies. Traveling Companions. Friends.

Lift the beer in acknowledgement, punctuate it with an insult.

_Damn it, Tepes. Don't you dare get emotional on me. I'm not good at this touchy feely crap._

The dhampir seemed to acknowledge this with a slow and steady blink. The edges of his lips curled ever so slightly into a pale imitation of that damn arrogant smirk. Then the stare unfocused, broke, and his blonde eyelashes landed featherlike on bloody cheeks.

_Goodnight, sweet prince. May flights of—_

Trevor's chest hurt. Shouldn't he be angry? Shouldn't he be raging against the cause of all of this, throwing curses and swearing vengeance in the afterlife? Spitting at the heeled shoe that ordered this execution? Where was that classic Belmont fight? Instead, he felt oddly numb, and it hurt. It hurt more than the bruises and broken bones, more than the torn skin and swollen flesh.

Figures.

His last chance at emotion, and he got it wrong _._

_Breathe. Focus._

So there was  _her_. Unlike Alucard, who wore blood like a vengeful angel of death, the signs of violence were entirely wrong on Sypha. She was fire and light, ice and endless fields of green grass. She was  _life_.

And there was still life there, hovering precariously in her blue eyes. Her body had landed near his, stomach-down on the grimy rubble. He could see her clearly, close to him, close enough to touch if he could just...

Why was there so much blood on her face? For God's sake, Sypha, wipe that off your face and focus on  _getting up_.  _Focus on anything but me. Forget me and SURVIVE._

Her eyes were dancing over his face like caresses. Past the pain she tried desperately to hide, she was concerned for him. Guilt and sorrow warred within her steady stare.

God, she deserved better. She deserved to die peacefully, naturally in her sleep or painlessly while laying in a field of flowers. She deserved to live a long life with a loving family and a houseful of healthy kids and a handsome, wealthy man that didn't have an alcohol problem.

She deserved better than him.

Stubborn woman. She wasted so much of her finite time when she could have had so much more.

"One day," he had told her once while gorging himself on an oversize turkey leg, "You're going to regret coming with me."

It was sunset on a much better evening, and the sky bled shades of crimson and purple over the horizon. "You're such an idiot, Trevor Belmont," she had answered with a gentle smile. "Though watching you eat that is making me second guess myself."

They had laughed that evening, basking in the unspoken hope each teasing word carried.

God, he should have left her behind when they defeated Dracula's castle.

Still.

He was selfish. He always had been. His finger twitched with the want to reach out to her, to drag his fingers through that short blonde hair and push her unkempt bangs out of her eyes. He yearned to pull her into an embrace and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, those soft lips. Or just a touch. A simple touch, hand to hand, would be enough.

His dying limbs wouldn't even give him even that much.

So he gazed at her, unguardedly, lovingly, tracking her youthful face, the gentle slope of her jaw, her lips that always seemed so soft. The blood running rivers down her forehead was an unwelcome distraction. Who had dared to hit her like that?

_Look, I know I've been an ass, but if there's a God out there..._

Whatever accursed spell that bound his limbs hadn't quite conquered her. Slowly, carefully, she forced her arm over the wreckage to reach him. Thin, elegant fingers caught on pieces of rubble, crawling like spider legs over the destruction. Her finger brushed over his pinky first before slipping within his palm. He had just enough strength to curl his hand over her much smaller ones.

It was the end of the world, and Trevor Belmont would not cry. He would rage and tear through his enemies and fight for a world that condemned him. But he would never, not once, shed a tear.

_I'm begging you to help her._

He drew a breath to form words. If it was his last chance, he had to say something.

A finite supply of words. What could he say?

_I saw you practicing last Friday. Your magick has improved. We're proud of you._

_The happiest moment I can remember is when you pulled me into a dance at your family's celebration. I hate dancing, and I hate parties._

_You were perfect, Sypha. Your spells, your trust, and your hope. The fire that you put into each action._

_You were better than all of us._

What he said was none of these things. Instead, his lips formed around three little words. Such small words. Such strong words. Words he hadn't spoken since his family was alive; Words he expected to never speak again.

A confession.

And it was enough to reach her. At those three simple words, she smiled like sunlight, the happiness shining through the gathering stream of tears in her eyes. She gazed at him as though, if she had to look at something one last time, she was glad it was him.

_God, Sypha, you deserved so much more._

His hand tightened around hers with whatever feeble strength he could muster. He would hold on to her for as long as he could.

_I'd give up everything to save you. To save Alucard._

_Please don't leave me._

He knew the exact moment she was gone. Her expression hadn't changed much. Perhaps her smile had melted just a little. Her hand went limp against his. A sudden, cruel stillness. But her eyes-

_I'd do anything._

Yes, her eyes were still directed to him, but they were no longer seeing. The light was gone. She was gone.

The ache in his chest was a weight he despised. It pushed into his lungs and claimed his breath. Slowly, he closed his eyes. A lone tear darted a stinging trail down his cheek.

If a man cries when no one's around, did he really cry at all?

Let all the legends say: Trevor Belmont did not weep in the Apocalypse. He bravely faced down each creature with a swift and strong crack of his whip. He accepted the casualties with a sorrowful grace. But he most certainly did not sob silently and hopelessly at the end of the world.

Somewhere distant, there was growling and screams and terrible crashes, but it was so quiet. So very, very quiet. The silence echoed within his swirling head.

_If anyone at all is listening, drag me to hell. Torture me every moment of my infernal life. Take me instead. Just bring them back._

_Please._

_Please get up._

It was getting dark. Funny that, given the many lanterns and fires surrounding them. It was the end of the world, and someone could at least be kind enough to light a torch for him.

_I'd do anything to fix this._

Drifting again. Hovering. It was rather easy, like falling asleep when piss drunk.

" _Anything_?"

The hoarse, whispered voice pulled him back with a feeble hold. Did someone...? He struggled against his own probably concussed brain, but nothing else made sense; Nothing else was spoken.

The hold was released. With the loss of that tenuous grip, Trevor's consciousness spiraled , and he surrendered to the weight bearing on his chest.

* * *

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but -

* * *

A sharp gasp pulled Trevor awake. Pure, clean air filled his lungs, and he coughed through a strong memory of smoke.

The hell...?

It was afternoon outside. A very nice, sunny day, really. The trees around them provided a soft shade from the summer sun. Pleasant, considering the apocalypse had happened five minutes earlier.

Trevor's wide, panicked eyes quickly landed on Alucard and Sypha, who were also sitting on the well-tread path through the forest. They were alive. God, they were alive.

Alive and just as confused and alarmed as he was.

Alucard's hand clasped tightly to his chest as though he expected something to be there. For once, he looked utterly and completely lost.

And Sypha was crying, but her face didn't reflect sorrow exactly. The tears flowed silently from frightened eyes. Cold, numb streaks over her pale face.

In their silence, the wind rustled through the canopy of leaves. Two playful blue birds whistled to each other nearby.

And Trevor Belmont exclaimed, "What the fuck just happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to say I got carried away with this chapter, but I totally got carried away. What can I say, I like writing rather tragic chapters. I originally wrote this as a oneshot on my lunch break to kill time. As I wrote, the wheels started turning and a basic plot formed. Trevor was very out of character, I'm sure, but I'm going to blame it on his concussion and blood loss. Trust me, the story does lighten up quite a bit. I hope you all enjoyed this, and if you want to read more, please let me know! Thanks always!


	2. The World at Stake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio faces the past with all the memories of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant to publish this much earlier, but I've been working 11 hour shifts for the past week and a half and I am exhausted.

TWO

The World at Stake

After Trevor’s crude (albeit understandable) outburst, no one said anything for a long time. Trevor was looking entirely to Sypha and Alucard for answers, but Sypha had her arms wrapped tightly around her curled knees. Her gaze was focused intently on a single pebble in the middle of the path. Beside her, Alucard had drawn his eyebrows together delicately with an elegant curved finger lightly touching his bottom lip.

At last, Alucard’s gold eyes focused on his companions. “It seems, Trevor, that we just died.”

At that, the Hunter snorted mirthlessly. “Yeah, except we all seem to be pretty damn alive right now.”

“A dream…” Sypha ventured carefully in a soft voice. Her eyes remained on the path. “Or a prophecy, perhaps?” Even as she spoke it, her words lilted upward in doubt.

“It was entirely too vivid and detailed for either,” Alucard argued. He stood in one fluid motion and looked up toward the limbs above him. “We weren’t here before. We were fighting Carmilla’s armies within the city gates, but now.... I’m not even sure where we are now.” With long strides, he began circling around his two human companions to take in his surroundings: A half-rotted hollowed tree, a little dip in the path where rain water had formed a slight ditch. “It seems so familiar though,” he muttered, more so to himself than the others. His fingers drifted over the bark of a tree.

The vampire’s antsy motions were getting on Trevor’s already frazzled nerves. With an annoyed huff, he stood also and held out his hand to Sypha. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Right, because this particular spot in the middle of this particular forest is so much more familiar than all the other damn spots in the other damn forests.”

Alucard shot him a harsh glare, and for one manic, hysterical moment, Trevor thought:  _ Oh God _ ,  _ they're alive. They’re actually alive right now.  _ He wanted to grab both Sypha and even Alucard and pull the two into an embrace and tell them to never, ever do that to him again. Instead, he said, “Definitely feels like I’ve died and gone to hell, what with the Prince of Sulking in Dark Corners here and all. Seems I can’t escape you even in death, vampire.”

This time, Sypha glared at him. “Trevor…” she chastised. 

“What?”

Alucard ignored both of them. “This isn’t right,” he muttered. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Trevor examined the tree that Alucard had seemed so fascinated with earlier, but it revealed no secrets buried within the bark. Just a damn tree. With a dismissive shrug, he asked, “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know. I feel…” He spread his arms as though it would help him find the words. “Misplaced.”

“Right, that explains a lot.”

Sypha shook her head. “No, I know what he means. I feel like we shouldn’t be here.”

“Would you rather be back on that battlefield?” A cold dread overcame each of them at the memory.

If Trevor were an honest man -- which he was, but not if it meant agreeing with Alucard -- he also felt like his entire universe had chewed him up and crapped him out into the forest with no survival guide.  But in the process, it had given him back the only two people alive he called his family, so it couldn’t be all bad, right? No use looking a gift horse in the mouth, as they say. And what could they do about it now?

He dragged his fingers through his unruly brown hair and let out a long exhale. “So you guys can continue your deep philosophical journey. I’m going to find the nearest town and more specifically, the nearest bar. I think I need a few dozen beers.”

And for once, neither Alucard and Sypha could argue with that. 

* * *

 

“A simultaneous illusion!” Sypha exclaimed. “Caused by a Succubus to trick us into doing terrible things!” 

It was her twelfth suggestion in their half-hour nature walk, and neither Trevor nor Alucard paid her any mind.  Occasionally, Alucard would tilt his head and politely hum an agreement, but the distant look in his eye said he wasn’t truly listening. 

Sypha tapped a finger on her bottom lip. It didn't matter that her companions weren't listening to her; speaking theories aloud kept her mind from spiraling back to the battle. Her theories gave her levity. “Or maybe we’re in the Succubus’ illusion now, and the only way to--”

“FINALLY!” Trevor held up his arms at the sign before him, ignoring Sypha’s pout at being interrupted. 

The sign rounding the corner announced their arrival. “Targoviste,” Trevor read. “Hey, Alucard, isn’t that the town your --”

“My father destroyed?” Alucard finished. He didn’t want to think about the alternate ending to Trevor’s sentence -- And by extension, his mother’s death at the stake. “Yes. There still may be some travelling supplies left over there that may prove useful.”

The trio looked to the town that should be ruins at this point. There were lights and the smoke of fires in chimneys and voices. Each of them had seen decimated towns. Hell, just an hour ago, they were in one themselves. Whatever area stood before them was definitely  _ not _ abandoned.

Alucard paused. “Though… Humans can rebuild quickly.”  _ Too quickly… _ It was disconcerting. Though he didn't condone his father's destructive actions, he also didn't want to see it thriving again quite so soon. Some part of him  _ wanted  _ Targoviste to feel remorse for what it had done to his family.

“Are you okay with making this stop?” Sypha placed a light hand on his arm. “We can keep going, if you’d prefer.”

He shook his head. “It’s getting dark. It’s only logical to stop when we can. What happened here is in the past.” Yet still, his hands tightened into a fist to hide the slight tremor going through him.

Trevor clapped a heavy hand on Alucard’s leather-clad shoulder. “I’ll buy you a drink at the bar.” As he started to move past the tense vampire, he patted the shoulder twice and added, “So you won’t eat the townsfolk instead.”

The gentle jibe did help relax the vampire very slightly. When Sypha hooked her arm around his and pulled him towards the town, his fist unclenched entirely. “I’ll punch them for you if it will help!” 

“A bar fight!” Trevor called over his shoulder. “A dozen beers and a bar fight sounds like a good time right now.”

“So you can start a bar fight,” Alucard argued with a very slight smirk. “But I can’t eat the townspeople?”

“Don’t make me stake you, vampire.” 

Upon entering the city, an older man with greying hair and a walking cane greeted them. He was busy packing up his wagon from a long day of selling apples and oranges, and by the raise of his grey eyebrows, he hadn’t expected to run into anyone that late. His gaze landed on Trevor first,whose rough exterior marked him as a trouble maker from the very start. Sypha caught his gaze next, and despite her bold manner of dress, she looked friendly enough. It was Alucard who attracted most of his attention.  Knowing just how out of place his more inhuman features could look, Alucard lowered his eyes and turned his head to the road before him. It was enough to make the man dismiss the reflection of glowing yellow as a trick of the light.

“Come to see the event, have you?” The man’s eyes squinted at them in suspicion even though his words were light. He lowered the tarp over the unsold fruit. “Just in time.”

“Event?” Trevor asked.

The man smiled, showing off his blackened teeth. One tooth was missing in the front. “A woman was just accused of witchcraft and condemned. They say she sold her soul for impossible, cursed abilities. Good thing they caught her before she brought all sorts of horrors to this place.” He pointed with his cane to the town center. “If you hurry, you’ll be able to see the church burn Lisa Tepes alive.”

Words have power. With the right words, you can reverse the flow of time or even stop the apocalypse. Words can be binding, such as an agreement muttered as the life leaves a body or a confession of love. On that day, the words an old man stated at the entrance of Targoviste shattered a half vampire’s view of everything.

Alucard’s head snapped back around to the man, who immediately recoiled at the dhampir’s sudden change in demeanor. His eyes were burning in the dimming light with anger, adrenaline, and shock; a dangerous combination for a supernatural being to have. It triggered every one of the man’s human instincts to  _ run _ , to get away from what was obviously an apex predator that had him in his sights.

Recognizing the man was useless, Alucard shifted that stare to Trevor and Sypha, who were used to their friend’s more inhuman characteristics.  They seemed equally surprised. Trevor cautiously ventured, “Uh, did he just say--”

He never had time to finish the sentence. With vampiric speed no human could ever emulate, Alucard was rushing toward the city center in a blur of black and gold.

“Shit!” Trevor exclaimed, moving to follow him.

Sypha was right at Trevor's heels. “What is happening?!” 

“I’ve been asking that for hours now!”

Alucard slowed when he neared the hordes of people at the city center. He took in what was happening before him: The lifted torches and pitchforks, the bodies pressed against each other, the flames just starting to blossom before them. Angry shouts filled the air, driven by fear and hysteria. It was nothing short of bloodthirsty, not unlike the feral hordes of Dracula’s army. The feel and smell of it caused all of Alucard’s instincts into overdrive. 

And in the middle of it all, high upon a wooden stake, was an unconscious, still-living Lisa Tepes.

The flames had only been started a short time before and hadn't quite reached her feet, but the heat was already causing her skin to burn in vicious shades of red. The air around the pire was heavy with smoke. 

With an inhuman growl and muscles tensing,  Alucard leapt into the air, implementing his superhuman powers to glide over the heads of the crowd. A few townsfolk noticed this and grew quiet in wary awe. He turned gracefully in the air before he landed in a crouch before the mob. One clawed hand tensed on the ground while the other was resting upon the hilt of the silver sword at his side. His normally calm, carefully controlled expression was contorted into a savage snarl. His eyes glared up through a curtain of blonde, silky bangs, glowing like melted gold capturing the burning flames around him. Lips curled over long, sharp fangs in a threatening promise of violence should anyone move.

Gasps and startled cries replaced the angry shouting. A great deal of people in the front row began retreating, stopped only by the people in the back who were pushing forward to see what was causing the commotion.

“Shit,” Trevor repeated. Could Alucard look any more vampiric at that moment? And in front of a torch carrying mob, no less.

Sypha took the lead this time. “Come on!” She grabbed Trevor’s arm. “We have to help him.”

They circled around, slipping in between the people who were stuck in indecision on what to do, and broke through the uneasy townsfolk. Alucard’s gaze flickered to them as they approached from his side, and he straightened slowly, somehow making the simple action look threatening. “Sypha,” he called in a low tone, and made a motion with his head toward the blossoming fire behind him. 

She immediately understood. With an elaborate hand motion, she cast a spell of ice-like mist to spread out over the flames and smother them.

More startled cries. Someone in the back shouted, “Witch!” Another person said, “She’s summoned help from Satan himself.” The crowd was shifting between fear and panic. That wouldn’t do. A panicked mob was a dangerous mob, and there was strength in numbers.

Trevor snapped his whip to the side. It didn’t hit anything, but the loud cracking noise was enough to gather their attention and silence some of the nervous accusations. “We’re taking this woman,” he said. “Leave us be, and no one gets hurt.”

A man near the front picked up a large rock and threw it with all his might. His aim was for Lisa Tepes, but with quick movement and a flash of red eyes, Alucard caught it in mid air. He hovered there briefly, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit, before gliding to the ground again. It caused even more frightened whispers.

Alucard had found the man that had provoked the attack-- Early twenties perhaps, brown hair, an outline of some muscles, and altogether average looking. The man suddenly didn’t feel so confident in his violent actions. His mouth fell open in surprise and he took a cautious step back. Afraid.  _ Prey,  _ a more inhuman part of Alucard said.  _ Scared, weak, with a racing heartbeat that could bring the blood to the surface oh, so easily.  _ This vampiric nature wanted desperately for him to tear open the man’s throat with his teeth and drain him dry for even daring that stunt. He blinked slowly. Deep breaths. Focus on saving Lisa.

With the tension rising, the bishop decided to finally make his presence known. He stepped to the front, moving with bold confidence and fearlessness. “Are you really so cowed by Satan’s minions? The witch with the enchanted tongue used for casting evil? The devil with the angel’s face and such terrible eyes and fangs! And the outcast warrior with such unholy weapons…”

“These weapons are blessed and very holy, I’ll have you know!” Trevor shouted back, but it went ignored.

“Satan is using these creatures to mock God himself!” the bishop continued. “They are weak before the glory of our God, but we must have faith to overcome them. Lisa Tepes has summoned these demons to save her, but nothing shall save her but the vengeful flames of God’s wrath!” He turned to his crowd, his faithful congregation. “This woman has made a pact with the demons of hell to become a whore of Satan. She has bared her breasts and spread her legs to the devils so that they may take her with false promises of unholy pleasure. They have had their way with her and filled her with seeds of --” 

There was a flash of silver and then silence. The bishop made a nauseating gurgling noise -- the sound of blood spreading through the throat into the windpipe -- and with eerie slowness, his head rolled from his shoulders to the ground. His body soon followed, crumpling into an awkward heap in the dirt.

Directly behind him, Alucard stook entirely still, holding his silver blade dripping red with blood. He had moved with frightening speed, becoming nothing more than a blur as he made his swift strike to cut down the church official.

A woman screamed. Others were shocked into motionlessness. Even Sypha gasped and placed her hand over her mouth.

Still holding that bloody sword to his side, Alucard bared his sharp teeth and spoke in a deceptively calm tone. “Does anyone have anything else to say about Lisa Tepes?”

The town grew quiet with frightened whispers. They stepped back, their former confidence waning with the heightened tension.

Breaking out of her own trance, Sypha made a series of quick motions with her hands and muttered a spell under her breath. An ice wall ascended in front of the crowd, effectively separating the three from the townsfolk. “That won’t hold long,” she told her companions. “We need to get out of here quickly.”

With a twist of his wrist, Alucard flung the blood from his sword and placed it back in the sheath by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Alucard,” Trevor said. He dragged a hand through his shaggy hair. “If we weren’t already on the church’s shit list, we sure as hell are now.”

Alucard’s lips tightened to a hard line, but he said nothing. Instead, he focused on his mother’s unconscious form above him. He took off his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets. His coat was removed next, and he draped it over his arm before leaping into the air. The ball of one foot touched a branch near the top of the pyre. Despite the vampire’s weight, the branches didn’t break or tumble down, and Trevor suspected he was using his powers to defy gravity.

Lisa’s body was bent forward, her body weight supported by the ropes bound around her thin wrists. She was breathing though -- roughly, hoarsely --  but the breath was still there, and that was what was important. Alucard placed a hand on his mother’s collarbone to hold her steady. He noted the warmth of her skin and the beat of her heart -- all signs pointing to her life. Dear god, she was alive.  The nails of his other hand extended into long, sharp claws, and he used those claws to carefully slice through the ropes at her wrists. 

Her body tumbled into his arms like a ragdoll, but he adjusted her in his embrace with natural grace, wrapping his long coat over her form as he did so. His other arm tucked under her knees, and once he had her supported comfortably in his arms, he glided back to the ground.

Both Trevor and Sypha looked at the woman with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“That’s really her, huh?” Trevor asked. “And you’re sure we’re not under some succubus illusion?”

Alucard’s eyebrows drew together as he gazed at the woman in his arms. “It is her,” He responded softly, but his concerned tone reflected all the questions that were racing through all of their minds.

The shouts of villagers broke their reverie. “We need to go now,” Sypha said. “They’ll come with more weapons.”

Alucard nodded. “We’ll loop around through the woods and avoid the main road. They’ll expect us to go back to the nearest town, so I suggest we go the long way to the east -- It’s a road used for trade.”

“It's getting dark,” Trevor commented. 

“And I can see in the dark. It will be to our advantage. I will guide us.”

With that decided, they quietly left the town, stealthily ducking between buildings and avoiding pitchfork-wielding townsfolk until they reached the edge of the woods. Behind them, the sounds of panic and accusations built.

But it didn’t really matter. Because that day, they had died and come back to life.

And somehow, so had Lisa Tepes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's alive. But what does that mean?  
> All magic comes at a cost.
> 
> Bonus points if you catch the Symphony of the Night references in this.
> 
> Next Chapter:  
> Diverging Paths


	3. Diverging Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa remains unconscious.  
> The trio plot their next course of action.  
> An unexpected visitor appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next was originally going to be one large chapter, but I decided to split it up into two parts. I had quite a bit of trouble writing this one, especially toward the end, so I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. 
> 
> This chapter and the next will both focus quite a bit on Alucard.

Three

Diverging Paths

Not long into their escape from Targoviste, it became apparent to Trevor and Sypha that blindly following a vampire in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do. The heavy canopy of leaves completely eliminated all moonlight, making it practically impossible for a human to navigate the path. Sypha had originally offered to conjure a flame for a torch, which Alucard almost immediately dismissed. It would gather attention, he’d said. If they had been followed, the fire would announce their location.

The ground was uneven with tree roots breaking through the surface soil, and Trevor had the very unfortunate luck of tripping over every single one of them. Sypha didn’t fare any better. She walked slowly,  hands reaching ahead of her to touch branches in her path. Occasionally, her hand would latch onto Trevor’s sleeve as a guide, which would slow both of them down even further.

Alucard, however, was built by nature to survive and hunt in the night. Even carrying a grown woman, he moved effortlessly through the trees. Tree roots and muddy pits were dodged with a careless grace, and no matter how many branches, leaves, or obstacles  were in the way, his footfall was utterly silent.

It all made Trevor and Sypha feel like clumsy, awkward children by contrast.

They were very aware that their stumbling was slowing Alucard down. Each time he gathered yards of distance ahead of them, he would turn to his human companions, tilt his head, and wait silently for them to catch up. At times, the light would reflect eerily from his eyes as he watched them, and Sypha and especially Trevor would have to push down an instinctual shutter of unease.

If their pace bothered him, Alucard never once complained or chided them on their speed. Instead, he seemed vaguely concerned at the arduousness of their journey. His eyebrows would draw together and a deep frown would mar his smooth features each time they tripped.

Eventually, after a half hour of travel, he turned to them and said, “This is difficult for you.”

“No shit,” Trevor responded. His boots were suctioned into mud, and he grunted as he wrestled them away.

“We’re trying. It’s just incredibly difficult for us to see,” Sypha said. “You don’t have to wait on us; we can catch up.”

Alucard raised a thin blonde eyebrow. “With all the noise you two have been making, I’m sure you’ve alerted every predator within a five mile radius of your presence.” His eyes narrowed as he considered the situation, and the eerie yellow gleam returned to them once more. He reached a conclusion with a sigh.  “I do apologize. I didn’t realize how demanding traveling at night would be for you. I sometimes forget how limited humans are with certain things.” He nodded in a vague direction ahead. “The main road isn’t too far. We can rest there and see if the moonlight will provide enough visibility for all of us to travel by.”

Trevor scraped the mud from his boots on a tree root. Judging by the smell, he was beginning to suspect it actually wasn’t mud at all. “How do you know we’re close?” he asked.

Alucard shrugged nonchalantly. “I just do.”

Sure enough, they soon reached the main trade road. The waxing moon dimly lit the flat dirt path like a heavenly godsend to two weary humans.

A small patch of grass by the roadside provided a good resting space for them -- And it was the best opportunity they’d had to examine the condition of Lisa. Alucard made sure his coat was spread beneath his mother and carefully lowered her to the ground. Her shallow breathing caught in her chest, followed by a wheezing gasp. One hand twitched very briefly before she fell into rest once again.

With softened eyes, Alucard brushed the back of his elegantly tapered nails over her flushed cheek. His hand drifted up to push a lock of hair from her sweat-drenched forehead before coming to rest across the side of her neck. His eyes closed, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to concentrate on nothing but her pulse against his palm, her rough breath in his ears, her very human _life._

“Is she okay?” Sypha whispered.

Alucard’s eyes cracked open just a bit. “My mother’s alive, Sypha,” he said as though that explained everything. Perhaps it did. “She’s having some trouble breathing because of smoke inhalation, but I don’t think it’s impeding her airways to a lethal degree. Though I admit I don’t have the knowledge she did in examining injuries.” He lifted her arm to examine the dark bruises and rope marks burned into her wrist. With a “Tch!” sound behind his fangs, he lightly dragged the pad of his finger over the bruised skin.

Trevor had sat with his arms resting over his bent knees. Something akin to respect or reverence darkened his expression. “Her feet have been burnt,” he stated softly.

Up until that point, Lisa's legs had been covered with her long gown. Only a portion of her bare foot was visible then, and it was reddened and swollen, covered in a layer of soot. Quickly, Alucard pulled back her gown to midcalf and took in the sight.

The fire hadn't quite reached her flesh upon the pyre, but the encroaching heat had seared her feet and ankles. Part of her toes had the top skin layer peeling, revealing a raw redness underneath.

Alucard's fist bunched tightly into the soft velvet of her dress. “Sometimes,” he said softly, venom dripping from his precise words. “I can understand my father’s hatred and vengeance on that cursed town.” His jaw clenched, and he wrenched his eyes shut -- a motion to gather his well cultivated composure. He inhaled a slow deep breath and opened his eyes once more. “The burns will need to be cleaned and treated properly to avoid infection. I'll need to retrieve a salve and pain killer from her medical supplies.”

“And then what?” Trevor’s voice was low and suddenly harsh. “Does this mean Dracula’s alive again?”

Sypha's breath caught in her chest. It was obviously a possibility that had not yet crossed her mind.

Alucard leaned back, his pose unintentionally mirroring Trevor's. “If we have in fact traveled back in time, then it would only be logical. However it shouldn't be an issue if my mother still lives.”

“Shouldn't be an issue?! May I remind you that he tried to _eliminate humanity?!”_

“An action brought about by grief and madness. The vampire you fought was not the man I once knew.”

Trevor openly gaped at him. “The _man you once knew_ tried to kill my entire family line! My ancestors fought to their death against him.”

“And your family line sought to kill him as well, along with -- may i remind you-- my whole species as well. Your family is just as guilty as genocide as mine is.” His expression had leveled into coldness, as it often had when the three had first met. “Believe me, Belmont, this prejudice goes both ways.”

Trevor scoffed, the lines on his face hardening. “Oh, they're your species now? I bet it's easy to claim vampires when it's convenient to you.”

“I am just as much vampire as I am human. Your ancestors would have killed me on sight, just as you once tried to do.”

“Will you two please stop arguing for one day please?!” Sypha’s outburst balanced somewhere between exhaustion and annoyance. “If Dracula’s alive and a danger, we’ll face that when we get there. But please, _please --_  for just tonight, can we at least act like friends? We fought and died together today, you idiots. Can we stop acting like we don’t care about each other?”

The three fell into silence. An emotion similar to guilt flitted across Trevor's scarred face. He attempted to hide it by dragging his hands over his face and shoving his fingers through his jagged hair.

Alucard's eyes were half lidded as he gazed down at his mother. They had come so far… broken through hell and death and come out on the other side. And he, like Trevor and Sypha, was determined to make things right this time.

Lisa's breath was rattling within her chest. But what could he do? He could treat her burns, but the smoke inhalation was internal. Perhaps his father would know what to do…

Alucard's breath hitched in his chest and his heart clenched. His father. He wouldn't be a victim of vengeful madness any longer. His insane suicidal mission to end everything would never take place, and Alucard wouldn’t have to murder him. His father and mother would be back in his life...

A noise in the forest snapped his body to attention.

Sypha noticed the sudden apprehension and tensed beside him. “What is it?”

Alucard hushed her with a slight shake of his head. His piercing eyes narrowed. “Someone's out there…” He moved to his feet, and the other two followed suit. With a very small movement of his fingers - so slight that only those that knew what to look for could spot it -- his sword flew from its sheath, seemingly of its own volition. It hovered, utterly still, above the dhampir's shoulder.

Before long, Trevor could hear it too: Heavy footsteps amongst the foliage. Too heavy to be vampire, too clumsy to be a predatory creature. He reached for his trusted whip, muscles taut and ready.

Another subtle motion of Alucard’s fingers, and the sword shot forward in a flash of silver. It hummed through the air, darting swiftly over the road, and stopped suddenly in front of its intended target: A young, red headed woman that had just emerged from the dense brush. Her green eyes widened in fear at the weapon tensed a few short inches before her nose. Her frozen expression was like a deer in the sights of a wolf. Not an inaccurate analogy by any means, really.  Cautiously, she tore her gaze away and looked to the group in the clearing.

“State your purpose,” Alucard said. “Now.”

The girl raised her trembling hands in a placating gesture. A woven basket was looped around one arm, its contents concealed by a piece of cloth. Her mouth moved silently in fear. She licked her lips, took in a shaking breath, and said, “I'm here on behalf of Lisa Tepes.”

“You're from Targoviste?” Trevor asked. His hand had yet to leave the handle of his whip.

She looked to him, deciding that despite his rough looks, he was easier to confront than the fanged inhuman being in the center. “I am,” she answered. “But I am not a part of the mob that tried to hurt her. I wanted no part of that.”

Trevor raised a scarred eyebrow. “And we should believe you why exactly?”

“Lisa saved my mother and brother from fatal sickness. I would have been without a family if not for her skill and kindness. I want to repay her.” Here, she slowly lifted her large woven basket with trembling hands, the offering shaking from her fear.

Sypha sighed and lightened her stance with a tilt of her hip. “I believe her.”

Trevor relaxed just slightly. “She's alone?” he asked Alucard.

“She is.” With a nod, Alucard recalled his sword, where it smoothly slid into place at his side.

The girl cautiously took a few steps forward, but maintained a respectful distance lest the trio change their mind. She looked down at Lisa’s form upon the grass. “Is she well?”

It was obviously an attempt at peace, a sign that she was earnest in her actions.

“She will be.” Alucard’s tone still maintained a layer of icy aloofness.

“No thanks to the holy people of the church and their penchant for fire,” Trevor added bitterly. His lips curled into a mocking smile. “Judge not, lest ye be judged and all that bullshit.”

The girl bit her bottom lip nervously. She couldn’t have been older than twenty. Freckles littered her pale face and marked a pretty constellation pattern up her nose and cheeks. Her red hair was thick and tumbled in heavy, frizzy waves to frame her round face and gather like a lion’s mane over her shoulders. Her clothes were basic peasant garb, consisting of a simple earth toned brown skirt and an off white blouse.

Sensing the girl’s lingering apprehension, Sypha motioned to the basket and asked, “You brought something for our journey?”

The girl nodded quickly. “Yes. I know it’s not much.” Her eyebrows drew together in apology and she looked timidly at each of them. “I don’t have much.” She removed the cloth from the basket to reveal fruits, cheeses, bread, and preserved jars of jam. “I hope this will be of some help though. The path to the next town is quite far, especially by foot. I wanted to offer some food for all of you. I preserved the jam myself from my own garden and….” Her voice trailed off as a thought occurred to her, and she looked suddenly and fearfully at Alucard.

Immediately, he understood her sudden apprehension. She wasn’t sure if he could eat the food… and perhaps there was also the nagging fear that she would be seen on the menu instead. To ease her fears, he smiled at her softly, making sure fangs remained carefully hidden. He placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head in gratitude. “This is an exceedingly generous and brave gesture. We are all very grateful for your kindness.”

The girl’s cheeks deepened into red as she passed the basket to him. “It was the least I could do.”

Trevor rolled his eyes and mumbled to Sypha, “From bloodthirsty monster to Prince Charming in the blink of an eye.”

Sypha elbowed him, but laughed silently in agreement. With his acute hearing, Alucard no doubt heard the comment, but Sypha still tried to cover it by asking, “What’s your name?”

“Aimee.”

“And you came all this way through the forest by yourself, Aimee?” A note of surprise.

“Ah. Yes. I got turned around a few times, but I followed the sound of your movement and voices.”

At that, Alucard shot Trevor and Sypha a dry look, which they both ignored.

“I also came to warn you,” the girl continued. “The church has decided to send out a hunting team tomorrow. They don’t want you to escape unharmed -- It’ll make the church look bad. They said the demon--” She sent a cautious glance in Alucard’s direction -- “Will be sleeping when the sun rises. Therefore, your strength will be weakened and there’s a greater chance of success.”

“Great,” Trevor stated. “And I still never got the alcohol I so desperately need to deal with this shit.”

Sypha wrapped her warm hands gratefully around the girl’s. “Thank you, Aimee. We all appreciate what you’ve done for us. I’m certain Lisa will be eternally thankful as well.”

Aimee beamed. “Like I said, the least I could do. Please let Lisa know my family will forever defend her name.”

Alucard dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I will be sure to tell her when she awakens. It means a great deal to her and me. For now, however, do you expect to return to Targoviste?”

“Hm.” She glanced back to the woods behind her. “I do.”

“Alone?” he pressed. “That’s quite dangerous.”

Here, she smirked mischievously and retrieved a small sheathed knife from her waistband. “I can fight with this.”

Trevor blinked at the pathetic weapon waving in the girl’s hand. Even wielded by skilled hands, it would be practically impossible to take anything down with it. “Monsters everywhere are cowering at the sight,” he muttered sarcastically.

Alucard grinned gently. “I will return with you to Targoviste and make sure you arrive safely. I need to retrieve medicine from the city before we move forward anyway. There is a medical kit there that I have access to there.”

All color drained from Aimee’s face. The knife in her hand went still. “What?”

Trevor’s arms crossed in front of his chest. “And let you get caught by a mob? Torturing you would be the church’s dream come true. No, I’m coming with you.”

“I will be fine,” he responded. “I don’t plan on even being seen. Besides, we need to gain distance between ourselves and whatever hunters they gather for tomorrow’s expedition. You and Sypha can take my mother and head along this path. I will join you as soon as I return.”

“You’ll be able to catch up to us?” Sypha asked.

Alucard smirked. “I can move very swiftly when I need to.”

It was an understatement. One of the dhampir’s more deadly abilities was his speed; even other vampires had trouble matching his movements in combat. If he needed to catch up to them, he would be able to quite easily.

He looked to Aimee once more, who was still frozen to the spot. Her normally warm-toned skin had turned sickly pale.

“You want me to travel back with just you?” she asked. The fear dripped from her words. She looked from Trevor to Sypha for help.

Alucard frowned. Ah. Right. Vampires like himself were not the most trustworthy creatures, and a soft girl like Aimee would be a perfect meal for a hungry vampire. He tried to appear as harmless as possible, which was quite difficult when he had unnatural eyes that could reflect in the dark and sharp fangs. “I swear that no harm will come to you. You have helped us, and I only wish to provide you safety in return.”

Trevor added, “Look, trust me when I say I totally get the reluctance, but believe it or not, you’ll be safer with him than by yourself. He’s many things, like a snobby insufferable rich kid with a crazy as fuck father, but he’s at least fairly trustworthy.”

“I honestly cannot tell if that was an insult or a compliment,” Alucard commented.

“It was both, you obnoxious cockwart.”

Sypha wrapped her arm around Alucard’s and jerked him to her. “You’ll be fine, Aimee. Underneath all of this--” She waved her free hand over his head and torso as if to illustrate what 'this' meant-- “He's a sweet guy. Sure, he can look scary sometimes, but he won’t bite. He’s a tame creature of the night.”

A look of utter offense crossed Alucard’s calm features. “Tame?”

Trevor laughed and latched onto the idea. “Like an overgrown demon puppy with big teeth! He's well behaved and everything.”

The dhampir extricated himself from Sypha’s grip, looking entirely indignant at the whole conversation. “I believe she gets the point.”

Aimee nodded. She wasn't sure what to make of the conversation, and the uncertainty still clouded her eyes. “Very well. If you’re sure.”

"Please offer me a chance to prove my sincerity." Alucard made a small motion with his hands for her to follow. “I’ll return you to your home safely.”

“And how are you supposed to find us once you head back?” Trevor asked.

Alucard looked over his shoulder. “Don’t concern yourself with that.  I’ll be able to locate you.”

“What, are you going to track us down like a loyal bloodhound?”

At that, Alucard’s golden eyes narrowed in annoyance, and he jerked away toward the forest. Aimee cautiously followed.

Behind them, Trevor called out, “Should I leave a trail of piss for you to sniff out!” He snorted a sharp laugh, then promptly grunted in pain as Sypha silenced him.

Alucard shook his head, but couldn't help the very subtle smile that touched his lips. “Take care of Lisa Tepes, Belmont,” he yelled. Then to himself, "God help me, I'm relying on you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer some of your questions-- There will be an explanation for the time travel, but that will be revealed later. I wanted the focus of this fanfiction to mainly be on Trevor, Alucard, and Sypha -- and their friendship. Lisa will also play a large role.  
> I know where I want this story to go, so fingers crossed the writing process will go smoothly.
> 
> Please drop me a review. 
> 
> Next Chapter:  
> A Lesson in Vampiric Nature


	4. A Lesson in Vampiric Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Travel has some odd side effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Exposition, Batman!

Four

A Lesson in Vampiric Nature

 

The thing was…. Alucard was a vampire. At least mostly vampire, in all the ways that would define the term. Therefore, he did in fact bite.

He tried to refrain as much as possible. Normal food could provide some sustenance, and animal blood could tide him over for a while, but at some point, his body did need human blood to survive.

And so, once every five weeks or so, he would hunt, as vampires are compelled to do. No one died from it -- No, Alucard firmly refused to take innocent human lives simply because of his inhuman cravings. It only took a small pint of blood, just enough to keep him alive and sane, and the person would walk away, perhaps a little lightheaded, but ultimately unharmed.

He would prefer it if the person offered the blood freely. Sometimes, all it took was a little flirtatious comment or smile for the person to offer him trust, but those instances were few and far between. Most people were too wary to bare their necks for a vampire, no matter how charismatic they may seem.

So he was left with using vampiric tricks instead.

It was an easy thing for him, natural really, to gaze deep into a human's eyes and glamour them, bend their mind to trust him with gentle, caring words. He would lure them into a secluded area where he would delicately tilt their head to the side and sink sharp teeth into soft skin. The blood would pour into his mouth, the rapidly beating pulse pushing the flow of life onto his tongue. It was nothing short of utter bliss. No human food could ever compare. The human would go limp in his arms, too far gone under the bite itself and the vampire thrall to truly understand the predicament they were in.

The bond between them would go both ways psychically during the bite -- Alucard was able to taste life and emotions and moments, and it was almost as good as the blood itself. The human in turn could only feel what the vampire wanted them to feel, whether that was pain, pleasure, terror, or nothing at all. Alucard was always very careful to make sure they never suffered. He was not cruel, and he received no joy in inflicting pain on innocents.

Once he felt that first moment of his victim’s weakness, the first skip of the heartbeat, he would release them with a sudden intake of breath. They would always look at him, dazed, confused, taking in the sight of the blood on his teeth or the red, hungry glow of his eyes. It wouldn't make sense. They couldn't piece together the clues. All they knew was they felt content and relaxed, and the stranger before them was oh, so handsome and holding them like a lover would.

And for Alucard, it wasn't enough. God, it was never enough. He _wanted_ to take it all, to sate that ever present thirst for life and death and revel in the absolute strength it would offer him. Because his vampiric abilities _did_ gain their power from blood, and there was no substitute.

But anything more, and he would selfishly endanger the human. That he could not do.

A few drops of his own blood would seal the bite into an oddly shaped red bruise; something no one would question. He would then drop a few silver coins in their pocket for their troubles and send them on their way.

Trevor and Sypha didn't know about any of this, of course. They had never asked, and Alucard had never volunteered the information. Their partnership originally had been tenuous at best, and learning about his more monstrous habits could easily shatter their already fragile bond. So he carefully kept this all to himself. Over time, their relationship grew to affection -- perhaps, one could argue, even friendship. They had seen him dine with them, eat roasted rabbit around the campfire, drink wine, and never once did they witness him attack a human for their blood. So they dismissed their suspicions. It was easier to look at their companion, with his teasing smile and all-too-human gestures, and assume he didn't need blood like other vampires. Maybe they didn't want to know.

And Alucard was terrified they would find out. Though it was stubbornly unspoken between the three, they had become a family to each other. If they ever discovered that he had been drinking blood, however nonlethal it may be, would they reject him? Sypha may understand and forgive, but Trevor--

Trevor was a Belmont. His family’s purpose was to eliminate blood drinkers the world over. Would that change simply because of familiarity? Which was stronger -- his inherited purpose as a hunter or their fragile alliance? The last thing Alucard wanted was for them to truly become enemies, even if their companionship was built on biting insults.

On top of everything, it disturbed Alucard how much he enjoyed the blood hunt. Like a deadly game of cat and mouse, it satisfied some primitive part of him that craved the thrill of conquering something else. Lately, he’d been using the search for Carmilla and her minions to satisfy that need. It was infinitely better to view his enemies as prey rather than some hapless human he stumbled across.

It was all an artform that many fledgling vampires struggled with. New instincts, as well as an overtaking craving for blood, would push many a fledgling into the path of vicious killing and madness. By the time they were old enough to control their instincts, their conscience had slipped from the years of mindless killing, and they no longer viewed humanity as an equal. So many vampires were often so very cruel because of this.  

As a child, his parents were firm in teaching him the art of self control. The vampiric side of him hadn’t truly come to the forefront until he reached puberty. Before then, it manifested in odd, albeit innocent ways, such as a love of hide and seek with his mother, which had a more intense edge than games human children played. It would often end with him leaping at her from some dark doorway, hands poised into claws, and small fangs bared into a half-snarl, half-smile. Lisa would laugh then and sweep him up in her arms, peppering his face with kisses as he giggled and pleaded for mercy.

At other times, his mother would prick her finger on a splinter or sewing needle. A drop of blood would gather on her skin, bright red against her pale flesh. Even if he was all the way across the room, Alucard would turn suddenly and look at her with concern gleaming in his bright eyes. “Are you okay?” he would ask. Occasionally, he would pad over to her and examine the small wound. It was never serious, but the child dhampir would treat it like it was. He would then give her injury a quick kiss so she would feel better, as children are prone to do, but she didn’t miss how his tongue would quickly lap up the lingering blood on his lip.

“Be good, Adrian,” she would say, and tap her index finger against his nose. Her smile would be very sad.

As he got older, things became more complicated. While most children were battling their newly forming sexualities and identities, Alucard had the added bonus of also fighting a sudden need to tear open someone’s artery with his teeth and feast on their blood. Luckily, this new violent instinct didn’t include his mother, who was pretty much the only human constant in his life. No, his mother was not to be hurt. He knew this, and whatever bloodthirsty being within him understood this as well. Instead, he had a deeply protective instinct concerning her. His mother was valuable to him, someone he adored, and no one would hurt her while he was around.

His father had been crucial in his development during this time. “We are not monsters, Adrian,” he had said, his deep voice heavy with meaning. “What separates us from beasts is our intelligence and self control. Without those things, we deserve to be hunted. No son of mine will be a slave to his compulsions. Do you understand?”

And Alucard would gaze into his father’s bright red eyes and nod.

His training was a meticulous daily routine that Vlad enforced strictly. They were to meet every night at 9pm sharp. “Vampires are strongest at night, Adrian,” he said. “So let’s see what you’re capable of.”

At first, physical vampiric abilities were explored and practiced and that was what Alucard enjoyed the most. Speed, teleportation, levitation. His father would illustrate and Alucard with imitate. It delighted him that he was faster than his father, though Vlad was obviously stronger and could easily take down the overzealous twelve year old with ease.

Then the self control training began, and the young Adrian found that particular part _torturous_. It was hours of mental games, temptation, and above all, restraint. No matter his insistent complaints and whining, Vlad was especially harsh on his mental training and refused to let him skip a single session. “This is the most important thing, Adrian. Do you want to disappoint your mother? Or harm her in any way?”

And it was that question that steeled his resolve and pushed him through the sessions.

This combination of techniques, from the freedom of vampiric powers to the restraint of bloodlust, saved Alucard from a particularly savage existence. He took pride in how he handled his vampiric side; it made him feel just a bit more human.

And ironically, it was Dracula that helped him achieve that.

* * *

 

Just because Alucard had the well-honed skill to function in society did not mean he was immune to bloodlust. It was simply easier for him to cope. Normally, at least. But only recently, he had fought a losing war, seen his friends die, came back to life, traveled back in time, and saved his mother from death. And it was all confusing, frustrating, and emotional on multiple levels. Alucard was on edge, uncertain, and his inner self translated all of these warring feelings into a simple, “You should probably kill something.” As though that would somehow solve everything. 

To make matters worse, he was currently tracking through a forest with an absolutely _terrified_ redhead following him. Instincts yelled at him that it should be the other way around -- that he should be tracking her. The flutter of her heartbeat was loud in his head, distracting and irritating. His thoughts honed in on such insignificant details, like how she stumbled through the dark or how her only weapon was a small blade. Clumsy. Easy prey.

No. That was not a particularly needed train of thought. Especially since she had went so far out of her way to help them.

So Alucard turned to her, golden eyes noting how she jumped at the sudden motion, and asked, “How long has your family known my mother?” Because it was easier to see her as an equal when she talked to him. 

She considered her answer before speaking. “Not long. A year perhaps. We heard the rumors before we sought her out. You know, about the witchcraft. But we were desperate and she had always been so kind. It didn’t seem right.”

Alucard hummed in response. His steps slowed and his head tilted toward her to show he was listening.

“It’s hard to speak out against the church,” she said. “Their word is law, more so than any ruler. They destroy those they disagree with.”

Alucard lowered his gaze, picturing the blazing fires that had haunted him for so long. “Believe me, I am well aware of their intolerance.”

He could feel her stare on the back of his head and by extension, her hesitance. “May I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“What are you?”

 _That_ made him pause. He turned to Aimee, his blonde eyebrows raised in surprise. Didn’t she know? Did the fangs not give it away? His only experience with humans had been those that were well versed in nonhuman lore. Of course it would be different for a simple farm girl, who in all likelihood, had lived a sheltered existence.

Her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry! That was rude, wasn’t it? Just… pretend I didn’t say anything.”

His gaze softened, and his lips quirked up in an apologetic smile. “I am a vampire,” he answered.

At once, the color drained from her face. Almost of its own accord, her hand lifted to her neck.

“Half vampire,” he hastily added. “And half human.” That was an easier-to-swallow response than being full vampire. In an attempt to ease her nerves, he turned from her and moved forward once more. For once, he was thankful he wasn’t wearing his coat and gloves. A long-sleeve white shirt was more humanizing than layers of black and gold.

When she didn’t follow, he looked back with a small, kind smile. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know.”

Her head nodded swiftly. “I know.” Her eyes were wide, but she stepped behind him once more. “The man you were with-- he was a hunter, correct? Yet he travels with a vampire...”

Alucard's lips twisted in a wry smile. “Don't worry. He's a tame hunter. Very well behaved.”

If she caught the joke, she didn’t respond to it. Alucard found himself wishing Trevor and Sypha were there.

“And you said Lisa is your mother?” Aimee inquired.

“Yes.”

She bit her lip as she processed this information. “If you are half human, does that mean a vampire sexually assaulted Lisa Tepes?”

“What?! No, of course not!” Alucard spun around, the accusation running through him like an electric current. “My mother is very happily married to my father, as he is with her. Their relationship is not some demonic binding or rape. It has nothing to do with evil or witchcraft, no matter what my father is.”

Aimee’s mouth went slack. “Oh,” she said.

He exhaled his tension, combing his fingers through his long hair. Perhaps it would have been better if his human companions had guided her. But then he remembered their blind awkward movement through the forest and immediately dismissed that. They were clumsier than she was. “Forgive my outburst. It was a reasonable conclusion, given what you know.”

She shook her head, the loose frizzy strands of red hair waving about her like a halo. “I shouldn’t have assumed. It was uncalled for. And you’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

Guilt settled into his stomach. With a frown, he gazed ahead and distantly gauged their position to the town. They were getting close, thankfully. Social communication was not his strong suit, and he was becoming more and more uncomfortable as the conversation continued.

A sudden sound of a shoe hitting something solid pulled his attention around once more. He turned in time to see the girl’s unguarded expression of shock as she tumbled forward, arms flailing to brace for the impact. His muscles reacted entirely on reflex, and he caught her before she hit the ground. Arms braced her thin form. She automatically clutched onto his biceps for balance, her body pressing against his torso, so very hot and alive and soft; a direct contrast to his natural cold temperature.

They both froze. Aimee stared intently at his throat, at the dip of his clavicle, as though afraid to move. Her heavy breath gusted the long strands of white-blonde hair framing his face; Her heartbeat raced in a panic. The hypnotic rhythm was all he could hear; that dull thrum of life being pushed steadily through veins. His nose flared as he inhaled the smell of her blood so close to the surface...

God, he was thirsty. When had he _ever_ been this thirsty? When was the last time this body of his had fed? In the past? The future? That was too confusing to consider. He’d never let himself come this far without feeding.

He gritted his teeth together.

This was ridiculous. He was Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, vampire prince and son of a brilliant mortal scientist, not some pathetic half-starved fledgeling. This girl has gone out of her way to defy the church and offer help to his family. For him to even consider betraying her was insulting and despicable on multiple levels.

So, with his resolve strengthening, he asked, “Are you okay?” The steadiness of his voice revealed none of his inner conflict.

Aimee inhaled a sharp breath and nodded. “I-- yeah, I’m, uh… Very clumsy.” She laughed mirthlessly. At last she released her iron grip on his arm and stepped back, meeting his eyes shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing. It’s quite difficult to see.” He hesitated as though wanting to say more before dismissing whatever thought he had.

The rest of the journey passed by in silence. Alucard made an effort to point out any uneven piece of ground or would offer her his hand to steady her balance on an incline. She gratefully accepted his help. With each gesture, she grew more at ease with him, and for that, he was thankful.

By the time they reached the town, they were both tired and relieved to see civilization. Alucard pushed back a heavy branch with a sweeping gesture of ‘ladies first.’ For once, she wasn’t too afraid to put a vampire at her back. He wondered if her trust was misplaced yet.

Aimee had stopped in the clearing. He came to stand beside her.

“Will you be okay from here?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ve always been a bit of a night owl, so I like walking and thinking late. This is nothing unusual. I’m sure you can relate?” Her offered smile was an extension of friendship.

He returned the expression, genuine kindness softening the appearance of pointed teeth against his lip. “Indeed,” he answered.

Her hand reached out to briefly brush against his forearm. “Thank you,” she said. And then she grinned and stepped forward cheerfully, her hands hooking behind her back.

She had hardly made it a few steps before a thought occurred to her and she spun on heel. “I don’t think I ever caught--” Her voice faltered. “Your name…”

But her supernatural guide was already gone, leaving nothing but an empty lot of grass where the dew of morning had already formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant to publish this sooner, but this chapter was turning out to be VERY long, so I'm splitting it up again. I've considered writing a few side stories about a child Adrian and his life with his family growing up. We'll see.  
> I hope you all don't mind spending time with just Alucard for one more chapter. Then we'll see what Trevor, Sypha, and Lisa are up to!
> 
> Also, if you'd like to check out some of my Castlevania cosplays, visit my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sunsetdraculette/  
> I'm working on a Trevor Belmont now.


	5. The Sins of Our Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no such thing as a tame vampire.

FIVE

The Sins of Our Father

 

As soon as Aimee turned from him, Alucard focused on his next set of tasks: Sneak through town without being noticed. Gather supplies from his mother’s makeshift infirmary. Return to his traveling entourage.

And the easiest way to be unnoticed was to shapeshift.

He concentrated on the location of his mother’s room and relaxed his muscles. It was a lot like melting, if he had to describe it. One moment, he was corporeal. The next, his body was dissolving and losing shape. To an untrained eye, it may look like he had merely vanished like a cheap magician.

Mist was his least favorite form to shapeshift into. It made him feel like a phantom viewing the world from another plane of existence. His thoughts were scattered and unorganized, and usually, he couldn’t follow conversations or complex ideas. Simple commands were easy enough to achieve, so it was crucial that he focused on a singular goal _._

He would much rather be a wolf or a bat. At least then he could properly think. But wolves and bats were meant to frighten or attract attention, and stealth was currently necessary. So mist it was.

He glided through the streets on air, nothing more than an eerie shadow moving unnaturally in the night. Houses, churches, stores. Voices floated from the tavern--

“We have enough supplies now!”

“We could track them while they’re still close.”

“They’ll come back…”

Dull noise. Not what he needed.

He barely knew where he was when he slipped under a wooden door and rematerialized inside a small room. The lingering effects of the shifting clung to his shoulders and he shuddered. He moved his arms just to feel the solid bones and muscles reacting to his commands.

 God, he hated being mist.

Lisa Tepes often stayed in Targoviste to help with the injured and the sick. A family had graciously offered an adjourning part of their house to her medical supplies and infirmary.  He could still hear the family’s movement in the other part of the home. No matter. He had no plans to disturb any of them.

The cabinets and shelves were lined with jars, bandages, sutures, and sterilized metal. Herbs hung from wires lining the walls.

He grabbed a large leather pack from a wooden chair. This would have to be swift. Recognizing what a few of the herbs were, he rolled the dried plants into a clean cloth and stuffed them into his pack. Bandages and a jar labeled “Burn Wounds” was added as well. He shuffled through a few more supplies, delicately smelling the contents at times, and claiming what could be useful.

One cabinet drawer held a small metal container. The scent of the contents curved his lips into a slight smile. Tea leaves. Next to that was wrapped sweet treats. His mother kept a snack drawer at work apparently. He added both to his bag.

And lastly, he reached under the table, feeling for a groove under the lip of the wooden design. Hidden within that groove was a velvet pouch filled with gold coins. Perfect. That should get them by for a while.

The sound of an angry masculine voice and a body hitting something solid drew his attention. Pausing, he tilted his head and expanded his senses outward.

A fight. Very one sided, by the sounds of it.

It wasn’t coming from within the house. On the streets then. And -- ah. A few houses down.

One part of him argued that it was none of his business and he should ignore whatever internal battles the people of Targoviste had. Another side was tempered with curiosity and a damn righteous sense of heroism. Since when had he developed _that_? It certainly wasn’t from spending time with Trevor Belmont.

He slung the bag strap over his shoulder and across his chest. Then, with a quick thought of intent, dissolved once more into mist.

The gravel streets were silent by that time of night, making it easy to track the wrathful noises. Even the nearby tavern had grown quieter. He rematerialized in the shadow of an alley, out of sight from any peering eyes. Within that same alley was two humans. His eyebrows raised as he realized one of them was Aimee.

A man faced her -- young, dark headed, entirely ordinary looking if not for the ugly scowl warping his face.  The heavy sickly sweet scent of alcohol clung to his clothes and permeated the air around him. That, mixed with the scent of piss and shit in the alleyway made Alucard’s stomach turn. The man’s large hand was clutching onto Aimee’s wrist with a savage force, and her soft whimpers of pain were somehow louder than the man’s frenzied words. 

With a start, Alucard realized this man was the same one that had thrown a stone at his mother earlier.

“You helped her, didn’t you?” the man said. “We gave you a second chance and you fucking betrayed us, you bitch.” He wrenched Aimee’s wrist to the side, twisting the bones until she cried and shook her head.

“Please! Please, I was just out for a walk.”

“Bullshit! You’ve been doing nothing but defending that witch since we bound her. Maybe--” He licked his lips and swayed under the pressure of the alcohol in his system. “Maybe you were the one that called those demons earlier, hm?” His grin was contorted and ugly. “Maybe we’ll have a witch to burn after all.”

At that, Aimee’s face fell in a blank look of frozen horror. “No--”

“No? Some people of this town are damn burdens. Bringing nothing but damn weakness and witchcraft.” He lifted an arm to backhand the girl before him.

And Alucard stepped forward into the light. A breath of silence weighed the moment. The man’s deep brown eyes took in the silver-blonde hair, the distant amber irises that burned with ice; A regal creature in the grime of this town, yet somehow entirely dangerous.  Fear instantly changed the man’s features into a slack jawed gape. His raised hand numbly lowered.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Aimee turned to see what inspired such terror. Her attacker entirely missed the look of relief on her features. In the low light of the alley, Alucard could see a bruise darkening around one eye.

The man took the opportunity to hook an arm around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest.

“I would suggest releasing her,” Alucard stated.

“Ah, wait, hold on.” The man laughed, and the sound was hysterical and panicked.  He pointed a trembling finger toward him. “Demon, right?”

Alucard didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. He could have been a carved marble statue in a noble family’s cemetery. His eyes caught whatever small bit of light was in the alleyway, causing his irises to gleam coldly.

“No, you had fangs,” the man hastily corrected. “Vampire. Right.” He breathed heavily, giving himself a moment to compose his thoughts and reevaluate strategy. “Okay. Okay. Look...” His head tilted toward the girl in his arms. “Pretty little thing, right? Young. Much better to look at than me.” He forced a laugh. His free hand clasped onto her jaw and wrenched her head to the side, baring her neck. “We’re both reasonable people. I give you this lovely red head as a meal, and we part ways. Both of us will be happy. Eh?”

Seconds passed as Alucard merely watched Aimee struggle in the man’s arms. Despite her earlier reassurance at his presence, she was beginning to doubt Alucard’s loyalty to her. The man shifted nervously as well, uncomfortable with the lack of response from the vampire.

At last Alucard moved, his shoulders tensing, his chest rising as he breathed in. His lips parted into a barely-there smirk that did nothing to lessen the icy quality of his eyes. “Such a reasonable request.”

Aimee’s eyes grew wide in terror just as the man’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Great! Wonderful. Here, I will shove her to you, and we’ll be done here, okay? Easy as that.”

“Of course,” he said simply.

And the man did just that, pushing his hostage toward the vampire with such force that she stumbled into his arms.

In a liquid smooth movement, Alucard caught her and pulled her upright. She jerked back, floundering a bit when she used too much force. Obviously, she was expecting resistance from the vampire, but that resistance never came.

“Are you injured?” he asked, and his voice was the same soft, gentle tone she had heard in the forest.

“Ah, uhm, no. I’m fine.”

He smirked. His eyes slid away to focus on the alcohol-ridden man still facing off against him. “You know, I’m really beginning to question your survival instincts,” he told her, his voice teasing. “I find your idea of ‘safe’ to be quite the opposite.”

She grinned despite the situation. “I’m beginning to question it myself,” she admitted. Her mood sobered quickly and she too looked at her attacker. “You should know. He wanted Lisa dead; He was the one that tipped the church off about her.”

Alucard tensed beside her.

She continued. “He's done it to others before too. He practically formed the mob tonight.”

By that point, the man knew he was fucked. He lifted his hands defensively. “Whoa, now, let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Aimee shook her head. Her sweet and innocent features were marred by determination. “No. I saw you. You were _bragging_ about it in the tavern.” Tears gathered along her lower lashes. “I’m tired of seeing good people die because of people like _you._ ”

Alucard’s hands curled into fists. The anger radiated from him, cold and powerful. “And what would you have me do with him?” he said, calmly if not for the undertone of barely controlled fury. The words formed around his fangs, pointed and threatening.

“You're a vampire, aren't you?” Her soft demeanor belied the harsh meaning of her words.

At that, the man turned to begging her _._ “Please, look, you’re human. You have a heart, I know you do.”

“Some people of this town,” she said, tears streaking down her face. “Are nothing but burdens.” And to Alucard - “I don't care what you do to him, as long as he never harms another woman in this town again.” Desperation broke her words. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m returning home. You’ve helped me tonight, and I am eternally grateful.”

“As I am grateful to you.” He inclined his head in response.

And with that, she glared once more at her attacker before stepping out of the alley and leaving the two of them alone.

The man stuttered nervously. “Look, I know what I said earlier, but you don’t understand.” His hands trembled . “The doctor, Lisa Tepes--”

An inhuman growl was the only warning he had before a blurred form slammed into his chest and pressed him against the brick wall behind him. The air left his lungs in a painful wheeze. He was lifted by a strong hand tightening around his neck. White danced behind his eyelids as his legs flailed for something solid to stand on.

Alucard glared up at him, eyes alight, fangs bared. His nails were longer than they were before, sharper and resembling claws more so than fingernails. “No, you do not speak her name,” he said. The elegance of his speech held a note of a monstrous growl. “It is _only_ because of her and her kindness that you’re still alive right now.”

“Then listen to me,” the man rasped. His hands clawed at the wrist that bound him. “She’s on some vampire’s shit list.” He inhaled and blinked frantically to clear his vision.  “I was paid by some vampire woman to sell her out to the church.”

_That_ caught Alucard’s attention. He lowered the man till his toes brushed against the ground. “Explain.”

His toes strained to lift his body and relieve the tension binding his throat. He inhaled a hoarse gasp of glorious air and said, “Release me.” Another breath. “And I’ll tell you.”  
  
Alucard considered it, those inhuman eyes narrowing before he complied, entirely dropping the man to the dirt.

On hands and knees, the man clutched onto his chest and breathed deeply, coughing as his lungs were filled with air over again. One hand waved erratically to Alucard. “Step back."

Alucard complied, if only because he knew he could catch the other man should he decide to run. “Speak now,” he demanded.

“A vampire woman approached me outside of town and gave me a few gold pieces to sell out the Tepes woman to the church.” He took a second to breathe once more. “I didn’t ask questions. Shit, man, I was just happy to take the money and get away with my life.”

Alucard gritted his teeth together. There were very few vampires that would have the guts to pull a stunt like that, and even fewer would have a motive.  “What did she look like?”

“White hair, really pretty in that femme fatale sort of way.” Another catch of breath as he looked up at the dhampir. “Didn’t seem like some run-of-the-mill vamp that hunts outside in these woods. Looked aristocratic. Like you.” With his breath returning to its normal state, he rolled onto the balls of his feet and stood slowly. “I didn’t get her name…” He hesitated, then snapped his fingers. “Wait, no. No, she was with some guy with white hair also. Curly though, reached his shoulders. He called her… What was it? Carmen maybe?”

The world narrowed to one singular target. His blood boiled. “Carmilla.”

“That was it! So we good now?”

Alucard’s head was swimming with fury. He wrenched his eyes shut and snarled at the idea. “All this time,” he said quietly, his voice more dangerous that it had ever been before. His fangs were bared, a flash of sharp white in the darkened alleyway. “All this time, I thought it was the church, that the ignorance of humanity led to her death. My _father_ believed that and blamed them, all of them. He lost himself to that hate.” He opened his eyes, and they were glowing red. The man jumped in alarm, but Alucard’s focus was distant, on some internal battle instead. “And it was vampires all along. It was Carmilla. All this time… I watched my friends die at her hands.” His trembling fists tightened at his side. “I buried my mother because of her. I _killed_ my _father_ because of her.”

The man’s eyebrows were raised high. He lifted his palms in an absolution of guilt. “Look, I don’t know anything about any of that. I was just following orders.” He stepped backwards, dropping his hands and feeling the wooden wall behind him. His fingers touched a strip of broken wood propped against a house. “It was nothing personal.” The wooden strip spun around to face Alucard. Wild determination burned in the man’s expression. “So let’s just take a step back and no one gets hurt.”

Alucard focused on the man as though suddenly remembering he was there. His sorrow and anger dissolved into a frigid impassiveness once more, yet his eyes remained that same bloody red. “A stupid choice, really.”

If the man was unsettled by Alucard’s indifference, he hid it well. For a man facing a creature of the night with a stick, he almost seemed cocky. Then again, plenty of vampires had fallen victim to mere humans with sticks.

The man swung his weapon around, aiming for his target's shoulder, but Alucard danced out of the way. It was followed immediately with a stab forward, this time aiming for the chest. The move was borrowed from fencing but without any of the grace. Sloppy.

As Alucard dodged another attack, he frowned at the sharp scent of alcohol. “Are you sure you're not related to the Belmonts?” He ducked as the weapon flew toward his head. “Then again--” Alucard slammed his boot into the man’s chest, sending him flying to the other end of the alley. The wooden weapon rolled out of arm’s reach. “Belmont is a better fighter than you.”

The man inhaled a wheezing breath as one hand clutched onto his shirt. He eyed Alucard warily, looking for an opening, any sign of weakness. When none was found, he balled his hands into fists to prepare for a fight. 

“Where is Carmilla now?” Alucard demanded.

“Fuck if I know! And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. As far as I’m concerned, you and that bitch Lisa Tepes deserve--”

He never had a chance to finish that sentence.

Rage boiled within Alucard and extinguished his tenuous grip of self control. With no guiding thought, he moved in a blur of speed. Taloned hands coiled in matted tufts of hair and wrenched the man's head to the side, baring the pale unblemished column of his throat. A shocked gasp and high pitched whine escaped the man’s lips before it was abruptly cut short as fangs pierced through skin, ligaments, and veins.

The act was not merciful as it typically was for him. It was savage, a reflection of his father’s bloodline, a sin of both wrath and convenience. Everything had boiled into a breaking point -- His anger, his fear, his desperation, and his damnable thirst.

The man curled his hands into Alucard’s white shirt and _pushed_ , clawed, anything to pull the dhampir from him, but it was weak. Supernatural beings had the advantage of strength, and their bite was often paralyzing. The scales were tilted too far to the side of the predator.

And then there was the blood. He released his teeth from the skin so the blood flowed freely, mouthful by mouthful, like silk, like breath, like condemnation. It pulsed to the beat of his victim’s panic, coating his tongue in a blissful hell. Suddenly, nothing else existed but the taste and the warmth and the life it carried with it. His nails dug into the man’s shoulder and scalp as he swallowed yet another mouthful. He held on to the man like it was his lifeline in all ways.

The fear tinted the blood to something entirely different from what he was used to. His father had once told him that the taking of blood had different contexts, and that vampires fed from emotions as much as they fed from life. Love tasted different from hate, which tasted entirely different from fear -- though all were desirable in their own ways. A vampire may take blood from a human out of love; it stood as a symbol of affection and trust. Or it could be nothing more than a bland, ravenous feeding with no other meaning behind it.

The pulse was slowing, so he pierced the flesh again, pulling the blood to the surface with more impetuosity, drawing out as much as he possibly could. A very human part of him knew he should probably stop and leave the man with breath; if he didn’t stop, this nameless human would surely die. Yet another part relished this vengeance and yearned to eliminate the catalyst of tragedy that had once befallen the Tepes family. He could take away this life and use it as strength for his family’s protection instead.

Besides, if this man didn’t care about Lisa Tepes’ wishes, why should Alucard in that moment?

With one weak shuddering breath, the man’s heart stopped and so did the blood. Alucard pulled away with a sharp gasp and fell with the body to his knees. All his senses returned in a blinding rush, sharper even than before. He stared at the corpse before him as a heavy realization settled over his thoughts.

Alucard very rarely killed humans. In fact, before that day, he could count the number of humans that had fallen by his hand on that same hand. And he had never once drained a human dry. It was taboo, an act of killing that his mother despised because she saw it as greedy and monstrous.

But he was part monster, wasn’t he? And he didn’t exactly feel remorse, not after seeing what eventually came to pass.

He wondered what they would think then, Trevor and Sypha, if they saw him there, lips tinted bloody, a human body at his feet. He wondered what his mother would think, and then he felt guilty for not feeling guilty for this wanton disregard for life. But then he thought of his father, those red eyes burning with fury but fragile with sorrow, striking out as though he could raise the dead -- Truly raise the dead, not the unholy act brought about by forgemasters. With all the powers his father had, all the knowledge, all the damnable alliances he had forged, he was unable to bring his own wife back to him.

Alucard had once refrained from tearing apart every villager in Targoviste at the request of his mother. It occurred to him then that this act wasn’t for her; it was for his father. He loved them both very dearly. Now that Lisa lived, he remembered his father’s last words, the way his inhuman hands reached out to him -- to hold him? To comfort him? --

“I’m killing our son, Lisa.”

No, this act was for Vlad Tepes. In his honor, he sought a revenge his family would never know about for an incident that would now never come to pass.

The duality of his nature made him an entirely unique being: Merciful, entirely capable of affection, but also a dangerous and perfect killing machine. And if that was what he was meant to be, then he would use that to protect those he loved.

He lifted a hand to brush against the dampness that had gathered on his cheeks. His fingers came away stained with red. Ah. Blood tears. Vampire tears. His eyes drifted shut. He exhaled a shaky breath and wept for his family, his friends, for deaths that had once happened in the past or in the future. But this time was different. This time, he could change it all.

His inhaled breath steeled his resolve and ceased the flow of stark crimson against his cheeks. His eyes still shown red with a majestic determination.

Alucard had taken blood before, but he had never quite taken so much at any singular time. The difference was startling. The heat of the living warmed his skin even as a very inhuman like power coursed through his veins. It was easy to see how the feeling could be addictive. He felt strong, alive, unstoppable, yet somehow very distant from his human counterparts. That was something he could do without. His hands flexed, and he watched as his human-like fingers slowly shifted to lethal beast-like claws.

Very well.

His claws dug into the man’s neck and pulled away thick angry gouges. To any passerby that may find him, the corpse would seem to be a victim of an animal attack.

Then Alucard’s focus tapped into his newly attained reservoir of powers. In a flurry of silver, he shifted into a large white wolf and tested his strength by darting into the forest, silent for a beast his size. When he reached a clearing, his senses extended through the familial connection he shared with his mother and latched onto her general direction. Then he inhaled deeply through preternatural canine senses and was surprised when he could pick up the scent of Trevor and Sypha as well. Due to his familiarity with them, he could track all of them very easily. Perfect.

He lifted his head and howled like a true wolf merely because he felt like it in that instant. The sound carried loud and clear through the forest. All of Targoviste could probably hear him. Good. Let them hear him; Let them know to never touch a person close to him ever again.

Let them know:

Here was Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, Alucard to some, ally to humans and prince to vampires, but not solely bound to either. And his family was alive -- all of them -- blood relation or no; Tepes and Belmont and Belnades. And he would be damned if he allowed anything to happen to them ever again.

This time would be different.

And with that driving thought, he breathed in their scent and leapt into the forest in a blur of white fur and bared fangs.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated long and hard about how I wanted this chapter to end. Did I want Alucard to kill the man? Or to leave him alive? I actually wrote a bit of both before deciding on one. 
> 
> In this story, Alucard has a second chance to save everyone he loves. There's hope for him to win and save all of those he loves, which is a very direct change from what we saw in the show. He's very willing to go to desperate lengths to ensure his family and friends live. 
> 
> I also think he views both vampires and humans as very different from what he is. He is both and neither. And I really wanted to explore that in this series.
> 
> Besides, I don't like tame vampires. Not saying Alucard will be a vicious killing machine in this -- He definitely won't. I just personally don't want to write a perfectly angelic dhampir in this specific story. Moral complexity is one of my favorite things to explore.
> 
> The question that remains now is... What will his human companions think of all of this?
> 
> Also as a sidenote: Aimee will not be playing a major role in this, nor will she be Alucard's love interest. She probably won't even appear in the rest of the story. She was merely a catalyst for a few things.
> 
> Now that we're done with Alucard's little side quest, we can check in on what Trevor and Sypha are up to and what will happen when Lisa wakes up.


	6. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then there was Lisa.

SIX

Reunited

“I’m starving,” Trevor Belmont announced. His gaze slid down to gifted food basket Sypha carried around her forearm.  “And you’re eating all the food.”

She paused with a bread loaf in her hand and gazed up at him with wide, blue eyes, the very picture of angelic innocence. And then, with a sudden sly grin, she tossed a chunk of bread in her mouth. “This is mine. You have your own.”

Trevor glared.

The two had been traveling for a little less than an hour at that point. An unconscious Lisa Tepes draped over Trevor’s arms, her head propped up against his chest in what he hoped was a decently comfortable position. At least she breathed steadily. The last thing he wanted was to be blamed for injuring her. Nope, his family had enough Dracula wraths to last them for a few hundred generations.

For a moment, he wondered how exactly he had arrived at his current predicament: Trusted companion and current guardian to his sworn enemy’s family.

Another part of him felt a stab of jealousy that fate allowed them to save the Tepes family, but not his own.

“Do you think he’ll be back soon?” Sypha asked. She steadily looked into the woods as though she expected to see the blonde dhampir there.

“I hope so. My arms are killing me,” He shifted Lisa’s weight in his grip, hefting her up a bit higher. “And Alucard just dropped the responsibility on us and ran off. He’s probably out there draining that girl of her blood. All he has to do is look like some damn tragic saint and women forget what he is and fall into his arms.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have let her go with him.”

Sypha had been with the two of them long enough to know their game. The two shit talked each other, scowled and threw accusations and insults, but when the chips were down, they would willingly take a sword through the chest for the other. They had long ago learned to trust one another, no matter what they said.

At the call out, Trevor grumbled something unintelligible and fell back into silence.

“She’s pretty,” Sypha commented, her eyes traveling over Lisa’s still features.

“Of course.” He scoffed. “Only the best for our dear Lord Dracula.”

Sypha examined the way Lisa’s light hair tangled about her gentle face and wrapped around her shoulder, how her long eyelashes rested against her pale skin.  “Alucard looks a lot like her, you know.”

“You think Alucard’s pretty?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

With a scowl, he answered, “It comes with the vampire territory. Good looks so they can lure you to them and sink their fangs in your neck.”

A wry smile pulled at her lips, and she sharply poked a finger into his upper arm. “Ah, so you do think he’s pretty.” Before Trevor could stutter out a response, she refocused her attention on Lisa. “What do you think she’s like?”

Thankful at the change of subject, he considered the question with a tilt of his head. “Alucard said she showed up at Dracula’s castle and demanded he teach her science. That takes some balls.”

Sypha hummed in agreement. “And she married him.”

He looked down at the thin blonde woman in his arms. She did truly resemble his Dhampir companion, but in a more feminine way. They had the same facial shape, the same hairline and eyebrows. If he considered Alucard’s elegantly formed features, Trevor could also see a resemblance to Alucard’s vampiric father too, particularly regarding the shape of his nose and cheekbones. That comparison was something he especially didn’t like to think about.

A frown suddenly curled Trevor’s lips. “God, she fucked Dracula.”

The Speaker nearly choked on a piece of bread. “Trevor!” she exclaimed when her windpipe cleared.

“I know,” he answered with a sharp wince. “I regret saying it and thinking it and now I can’t get the image out of my head.”

And now it was in Sypha’s head. She wrenched her eyes shut and tried to think of something else.

An awkward silence followed. Their shoes crunched through the rock and sand of the path.

“I mean… she can’t be much over five foot and Dracula’s like eight foot tall.”

“Oh my god, Trevor!” the speaker exclaimed. “If you don’t shut up about his parent’s sex life, I’m going to kill you on Alucard’s behalf.”

“It’s the hunger! I can’t think clearly with an empty stomach.”

Sypha tore a bite size piece of bread off and held it before his face. “Say ahhh!”  She was suddenly so very close. For a moment, her wide blue eyes brought to mind the end of everything, of that same blue gazing at him as the world burned around him. They once were dying, and he clutched her hand tight….

His cheeks heated at the memory. Obligingly, his lips parted to accept her food offering --

Only for her to shove the larger bread loaf into his open mouth. Smiling like the devil, she popped the small piece in her mouth and spun on heel. “You’re right. Food does shut you up.”

Trevor made an annoyed huff around his mouthful and worked to chew it. Still, his mind was stuck on the past and what had transpired not so long ago. Specifically, the confession that had spilled so freely from his lips. “So,” he said once he had swallowed enough to talk. He was certain his cheeks were still tinted red. “What do you remember about the war? When we lost, I mean.”

Her pace slowed. She lowered her gaze for a moment, tilting her head as she thought. “Not much,” she admitted. “I remember Carmilla brought a dark mage to balance out my powers.” She glanced to him. "We were outnumbered. You were hit first, and I ran toward you. I just knew I had to save you, that if we lost you, we lost everything. But I was careless.”

“I distracted you,” Trevor muttered, his expression darkening along with his mood.

“Not exactly. We were all looking after each other, the three of us. We protected each other much more than we distracted each other.”

“I suppose…” The doubts returned to his mind at full force --

_She’d be better off without you. You should just let her go, let her live a full life, and let the Belmont line die out for good._

Unaware of his internal battle, she continued. “I remember landing beside you, but everything after that…” She shook her head. “It’s all a blur after that.”

It was better off that way; Better that she didn’t remember how he felt about her. Maybe once this whole ordeal was over, he could convince her to find someone else to travel with; someone that wouldn’t put her life at risk at every turn.

His thoughts were quickly derailed when the sharp point of a knife was pressed against his neck. He froze, eyebrows raised, and lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms.

For one bizarre moment, he half expected Lisa’s eyes to be the same inhuman gold as Alucard’s, which of course didn’t make sense. The blue eyes that glared up at him were strictly human, a fascinating contrast to both her son and her husband.

And then he realized that somehow, this injured slip of a woman had managed to wake up, subtly attain a wooden throwing knife from his belt, and press it against his jugular. Sneaky and impressive, he had to admit.

When Trevor didn’t respond to her threat, she pressed the blade into his soft skin a bit harder. “Release me,” she said. “Now.” The hoarse tremor in her voice didn’t diminish the biting menace.

Again, the resemblance to Alucard was eerie, and Trevor had the sudden, hysterical urge to laugh. Her manner of speech and confidence were similar to his, though her threats lacked the immediate supernatural danger that her son’s exuded.

He merely responded, “I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to do that, lady.”

Sypha eyed Lisa with surprise. With Trevor’s rough response, she held up her hands. “We mean you no harm,” she hastily announced. Given her two companions, she was used to being the social voice of reason in tense situations. “We’re friends with your son!”

 _That_ caught Lisa’s attention. Her eyebrows drew together as she looked between the two of them. “Friends with _my_ son?” The doubt was thick in her voice. Her eyes lingered on the Belmont crest embroidered on Trevor’s shirt before her expression hardened once more. She met his impassive stare. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

Shit. She knew who the Belmonts were. Of course she did. You marry the world’s most feared vampire, you hear of the one family line that could kill him. Except…. This time, the human was on Dracula’s side. It was a strange twist. Lisa Tepes didn’t _want_ her family killed, and Trevor realized that to her, it was a terrible thing that a Belmont knew of Alucard.

Of course, Sypha didn’t live her whole life with all the intricacies of being a Belmont, so she didn’t immediately pick up on Lisa’s sudden wariness.  “We're not lying to you, ma'am. We helped him get you out of Targoviste. Do you remember anything that happened there?"

Sadness flickered across her expression, gone before it solidified. “I remember what they intended to do, yes,” she answered. “And where is my son now? You expect me to believe he abandoned us?” Her eyes glanced one more to the Belmont crest and her stoic gaze held a whisper of fear.

“Went into town for medicine,” Trevor answered. “He’ll be back shortly. Now will you take that blade away from my throat please?”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Put me down. I thought I made that quite clear.”

“Your feet have been burned,” Sypha supplied. “You’re in no shape to walk right now.”

“Then place me in the grass. I don't particularly care for being carried around like a damsel in distress.”

Trevor had to bite back the comment that she was, in fact, rescued like a damsel in distress. He opted instead to roll his eyes with a dramatic sigh. “Fine." He complied with her request, placing her delicately in the clearest grass spot he could see.

Lisa composed herself, wary to take her eyes off Trevor and Sypha, but finally daring to break the stare. The blade never wavered from its raised position. She took stock of her current situation.  A heavy leather jacket draped over her shoulders, a much larger size than her petite form. The high gold collar framed her head -- Alucard’s jacket, she realized. Her eyes trailed over her dark gown until landing upon the tattered hemming. It was then that she noticed her injured feet, and her eyebrows drew together in concern.

“Alucard got to you as fast as he could,” Sypha said. “The flames were catching quickly.”

Lisa didn’t acknowledge her recent brush with death. Instead she repeated the name “Alucard” like it was a curse. “Such a ridiculous name people have given him.” And then with a steady exhale, she relaxed very slightly. “Better ridiculous than hateful, I suppose.”

Trevor shifted slightly to his other foot. Lisa’s attention immediately snapped back to him, and her grip on the blade tightened.

“Easy,” Trevor said, extending his palms forward in a gesture of peace. “I don’t mean you nor your family any harm. As unusual as it is, I am on your side. So how about we lower the blade and --”

His words were cut off suddenly when a blur of white fur burst through the foliage onto the road. Three startled exclamations were heard loudly at once:

Lisa exclaimed, “Adrian!”

Sypha cried out, “Alucard!”

And Trevor shouted, “Jesus Christ!”

The great wolf that stood before them  was larger than any average wolf, with thick fur as white as a traditional Calla Lily. Unlike the usual honey gold of Alucard’s eyes, the wolf’s were a brighter yellow, glowing brightly from some internal source to betray his supernatural heritage. He focused those eyes on Trevor first, snorting with amusement at the hunter’s exclamation, then he looked to Sypha and finally, to his mother.

The relief and hope that filled his heart couldn’t be tempered and hidden by a wolf’s mask. He stared at her, round yellow eyes wider yet somehow more fragile than they had ever been before.

Lisa merely smiled, gently, a mother’s smile, and held out her hand in a silent invite. Alucard moved then, padding forward silently on pawed feet before a silver mist coiled around him. In midstep, he transformed, a motion that was as seamless as it was inhumanly graceful. Unlike werewolf transformations, a vampire’s such as Alucard’s was based more on a mystical force rather than a physical. There was no twist of bones nor contortion of flesh. Instead, he manifested his humanoid appearance like the curl of smoke. His long blonde hair gusted upward in the supernatural force of the shift to reveal slightly pointed ears, then landed in elegant ripples over his shoulders. For a second after the transformation, his eyes reflected red and echoed a ruby blur about them from the use of blood magic. And then they were golden again and soft, vulnerable in a way he very rarely showed.

If Lisa found this display fascinating, she didn’t show it. Then again, she was likely used to seeing her family perform unearthly feats on a regular basis.She merely smiled wider at her son and awaited him.

He collapsed to his knees before her in an unrefined gesture that was oh, so human -- a stark contrast to the graceful vampiric movements displayed only a few seconds before.

Lisa reached her hand out to push a stray lock of hair from his face. She grinned at the relief and shock that relaxed his features and widened his eyes, parted his lips.  “Adrian,” she greeted him.

With that simple name, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace, leaning his head against her tangled hair and breathing in the ashes still lingering on her. Beneath that was the smell that was uniquely her, of herbs and medicine, of vanilla and sun-drenched grass. Of home. His breath caught in his chest. He wrenched his eyes closed and buried his head in the dip of her neck and shoulder. His hands clutched onto her as though he feared she would suddenly fade into nothing.

Lisa smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Her fingers curled around his long, silk-like hair. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said.

He let out a poignant and derisive snort, tightening his hold on her. His body trembled very slightly, for just a moment -- Just enough for her to notice.

At this point, she suspected something was wrong. Her eyebrows drew together as she tried to piece together his emotional reaction. Her son had always been kind hearted and affectionate to those he cared for, but there was an alarming desperation and fear that clung to him this time. She pulled away from him, and he allowed her to with a slight reluctance. His eyes were lowered, half lidded, and distant.

With gentle slowness, she touched his chin and raised his head to meet her concerned gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, causing the yellow of his eyes to seem all the more supernatural. Blood clung to his long lower lashes and threatened to spill over his cheeks. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

He wrapped long, thin fingers around her raised wrist. “I thought I had lost you,” he admitted.

She smiled at him, tender and fragile and bittersweet. “It will take more than an angry mob to get the best of me.”

Alucard returned her smile, but it was twisted with irony and a deep pain. She cupped both hands against his cheek, and he closed his eyes. This time, deep red tears did streak across his face, leaving a bloody trail in their wake. She wiped them away with her thumbs.

Very slowly, her poignant smile faded, leaving behind a heavy sadness. “Adrian,” she said. “How many people died?”

Which meant, _How many people did he kill?_ The blood tears were obvious giveaways, but did she notice the unusually human warmth of his skin? Or the newfound power that came from fresh blood and radiated from him?

He answered honestly. “Two. No one innocent. One was the bishop.”

Trevor and Sypha exchanged glances.  “Two?” Trevor mouthed to the young Speaker. His eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together when exactly a second person had died. He didn’t like the immediate answer that came to mind.

Sypha shrugged, though her eyebrows remained drawn together with concern and unease.

Lisa had nodded, accepting his answer with a solemn reluctance. “I’m so glad it was you that found me and not your father. I dread to think what would have happened if he discovered the town’s intentions.” Her muscles tensed. She gazed into Alucard’s eyes with a heavy intensity. “He must never know, Adrian. Never. Promise me you won’t tell him.”

Unfortunately, Alucard was more than knowledgeable of his father’s monstrous wrath. He nodded. “You have my word.”

Trevor shifted his weight to one foot and crossed his arms before his chest. He was _happy_ for Alucard, he realized. Jealous, perhaps. After all, the Belmont family had also been executed and they weren’t magically resurrected, but that was hardly the dhampir’s fault. Alucard had his family back -- And that was a game changer. Lisa was a catalyst, and suddenly both their history and future was uncharted territory.

He shoved the sappy sentiments beneath a gruff, apathetic demeanor. “Your mother tried to stab me in the throat,” he announced suddenly, his tone reminiscent of a child telling on a sibling.

Alucard looked to Sypha and Trevor as though just remembering they were there. A wry smile twisted his lips. “An action you deserved, I’m sure.”

Trevor cocked his head to the side and smirked, his eyes glittering with mirth. “Fuck you, Tepes.” Which earned him a low chuckle from the dhampir.

“You know these two, Adrian?” Lisa asked.

“Ah. Yes.” He stood, gesturing one hand to the two humans behind him. “Mother, these are friends and traveling companions of mine. Sypha Belnades and Trevor Belmont.”

Sypha was the first to introduce herself properly. She stepped forward and knelt before the older woman. “It is an honor to meet you, ma’am.” She wrapped her hands around Lisa’s in greeting. “I’ve heard so much about you. I would love to learn from you someday.” Her head bowed respectfully.

Lisa’s expression was soft with kindness. “I don’t know much about magic.”

“Nor I about science,” Sypha responded. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to learn.”

Lisa tightened her hand against the Speaker’s, pleased with the young woman’s accepting personality. “Then I look forward to learning with you, Sypha.”

Unfortunately, Trevor was not nearly as sociable as Sypha. He awkwardly greeted her with a tilt of his head.

The smile didn’t leave Lisa’s face, but her eyes did narrow in wary distrust. She twisted the wooden blade in her hand, holding the handle before the hunter. “Nice holy weapons, Belmont,” she commented.

Trevor smirked and retrieved the offered blade. “Yeah, well, some of us don’t have superhuman families to defend us.” Or families at all.

She met his eyes steadily. “Tell me something, hunter. Does it bother you? What my family is, I mean. You obviously know who I am and what Adrian is. Does the son of the great vampire hunting family maintain the same prejudices?”

Trevor rubbed the back of his neck as he considered it. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t entirely. But as long as they keep their teeth to themselves, I don’t give a shit what they are.” His head lolled to the side. “Most of the population wants me dead because of my last name. I’m not particularly keen on extending that sentiment to others. Unless they give me a reason to, mind you.”

Lisa’s expression softened. “Well said, Belmont. We may get along just yet.”

“So what now?” Sypha asked. “Where should we go?”

“We need to get somewhere safe,” Alucard answered. “Word will spread fast about the incident in Targoviste, and we’ll need to lay low for a while. Our cottage will be too obvious."

“They burned it down anyway,” Lisa said. “We’ll have to go to Vlad’s castle. It’ll be the safest, and we need to speak to him. He'll find out about the cottage sooner or later, and I'd rather be the one to tell him."

As Alucard hummed an agreement, Trevor blurted out, “Whoa, whoa, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly an esteemed guest at Dracula’s estate.”

She dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “You’ll be fine. I'll make sure of that. No harm will come to you."

The Dhampir smirked, one fang visible against his lip. "Who do you think calls the shots in our family, Belmont?" His eyes glittered with affection and _happiness._ Trevor couldn't remember any other time he'd seen the half-vampire look so relaxed and happy. The ever- present tension was gone from the tall blonde's shoulders, making him look years younger.

Wildly and oddly emotionally, Trevor thought, _He deserves it._

What he says is: “I’ll follow you to the next town, but not to the castle. We’ll meet up when you return.”

Alucard accepted this with a nod and looked to Sypha.

“I haven’t decided,” she said to his unspoken question. “I want to know how this story ends. I want to be prepared if…” Her voice trailed off. She glanced at Lisa.

Alucard winced very slightly and inclined his head. He placed a hand over Sypha’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, but whether it was for himself or for her was unclear.

Lisa’s eyebrows rose at her son’s oddly tender demeanor. It wasn’t that Alucard was normally cruel; quite the opposite actually. Instead, he was merely distant with strangers, as they were of him. Like his father, trust was rarely given. To their kind, affection was a sign of weakness to be exploited. It had to be earned. Concern and suspicion worried the corners of her eyes. “How _do_ you all know each other?”

“Traveling companions,” Sypha answered as though it explained everything. Lisa wasn’t convinced and looked to Alucard for answers.

But he was no longer paying attention to them. His attention had shifted quite suddenly to a sound in the distance. “Someone’s coming.”

Trevor and Sypha tensed and listened for whatever Alucard’s inhuman hearing picked up. Before long, the clop of horse hooves and the crunch of gravel beneath wheels sounded from the town’s direction. Without a word, they assumed a well-rehearsed position -- The hunter’s hands on the handle to his whip, the Speaker’s fingers twisted to cast a spell, and the soldier coiled like a snake ready to strike. The three had maneuvered themselves between Lisa and whatever was headed their way.

It was unnecessary. The caravan that rounded the corner was innocent enough, a bit rickety and doddering with two brown horses pulling it along. An older man drove it, grey hair glittering in the pale light of the lanterns hanging beside him. A cane rested on the bench beside him.

It took the trio a moment to remember him - He was from the town, the first man that greeted them when they entered, the one that told them of Lisa’s burning.

His expression filled with fear upon seeing them blocking his path. Apparently, he had heard of their escape and the death of the Bishop. His shaking hands lifted in surrender. “Look, I’m just leaving town; I mean no harm. I’m not here for you.”

Trevor and Sypha relaxed their stances. Alucard, however, merely tilted his head in consideration. “You don’t mind then if we purchase your caravan,” he stated.

The man hesitated. “What--” The word had barely left his mouth before the Dhampir moved with his supernatural speed. One minute, he was standing in the road. The next, he was on the bench beside the man, too close for comfort.

The man jerked, sliding back to escape the inhuman creature before him. He couldn’t seem to break his eyes away from the golden unblinking gaze before him.

“Relax,” Alucard said softly.

And immediately, the man obeyed, his face slackening, his limbs going limp at his side. His mind unlocked with ease. A simple thing to do for he was a simple man.

“We’re going to purchase your cart and wares from you,” Alucard said, maintaining his steady eye contact. “And you will immediately return to Targoviste. If anyone asks, you sold it all to rich merchants from a nearby town. You never saw any of us here. Do you understand?”

The man’s eyebrow’s lowered as though confused, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Good.” He dug out a few gold coins from a pouch and placed them in the man’s palm. It was more than enough to cover the cost of the horses, the caravan, and the wares in the back. “Return to the city now and don’t look back.”

The man mumbled an agreement in a hypnotic daze and slid from the bench onto the road. As he retraced his path back to Targoviste, Alucard turned back to his companions.

Trevor’s jaw was slack as he watched the scene unfold. “You _enthralled_ that man,” he accused.

The dhampir casually laced a lock of hair behind his ear and gathered up the reigns of the caravan. “I assume you had a better plan, Belmont?” he questioned lightly.

The hunter crossed his arms and grumbled a response.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Sypha commented, a little stunned.

“I don’t like to,” Alucard answered. “But I dislike the threat of violence even less. That man will be safe; We won’t if we don’t move quickly.”

Trevor gathered Lisa into his arms. “Whatever. Let’s just get to the next town and get away from this.”

“Believe me. I would like nothing more.”

"And one more thing," Trevor called. "It's important."

The vampire raised an eyebrow and focused his attention on the hunter. "Yes?"

The smile that coiled the Belmont's lips was the most shit-eating grin Alucard had ever seen. His posture radiated smugness. "You really did track us down like a loyal bloodhound." He paused for effect as though allowing his wit and cleverness to truly sink in.

Alucard gave him a dry look and considered -- just for a moment -- leaving him behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, it took me a month to write this thing, and I'm still not happy with it. Don't you love the deus ex machina there at the end? *shrug*


	7. Reverse, Redo, Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes at a price.

SEVEN

Reverse, Redo, Regret

 

It was decided early on that they would navigate the caravan in shifts. Alucard lead first since it was after midnight and his eyes were better equipped to see in the dark. Besides, he couldn’t sleep anyway. His mind raced with questions that eluded him. His paranoia built even as he desperately wanted to accept it at face value. Perhaps this whole situation was too good to be true. Perhaps Sypha was right and it _was_ all a dying dream. Or maybe this was his heaven? No, he wouldn’t have been accepted into heaven. Maybe hell would tease him with this happy ending before ripping it away. He wasn’t sure if he could survive that.

 

The small lantern hanging beside his head bounced to the beat of the gravel road. It provided the smallest bit of light, serving as more of a comfort than anything else. The flames warmed the side of his pale face even as the crisp night air soothed across his skin.

The steady pulse of his companions’ heartbeats was a comforting rhythm as well. It was so much louder and noticeable than his own lethargic, muted heart. But he liked the sound. It reassured him, lulled him to a relaxed calm. He could pick out each of the heartbeats from each other, from Trevor’s loud, thudding pulse to Sypha’s fluttering heart that changed to the tune of her emotions to his mother’s steady, serene rhythm. He wondered if they would find that creepy. He could never tell what humans would be comfortable with, and though he did have a human half, he was also too far removed from humanity to judge.

So he neatly tucked the sound of their hearts into the back of his mind and let the rhythm beat like music. His polished, talon-like nails tapped into the leather reigns as he tilted his head back, breathing in deeply. The world smelled like wildlife, like freedom and dense woods. What a _lovely_ night. A good night for hunting, his father would say. Though whether his father meant humans or animals Alucard honestly didn't want to know.

Perhaps once they set up camp somewhere, he’d go hunting. They had bread and dried jerky, but deer or rabbit would be a nice addition. His companions would surely appreciate the fresh meat, and he would enjoy the chance to run and hunt like his more savage nature urged him to do. A celebration of sorts, he decided.

His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he could almost taste the brisk air. Yes, what a lovely night indeed.

**************************************

Time passed quickly that night along the empty road. Before long, the morning painted the horizon in watercolor reds and purples. Alucard watched the colors bleed together until the sky shown blue and the light burned the edges of his vision and the sun pressed uncomfortable pinpricks along his skin. He tolerated it so Sypha could rest just a bit longer, but soon, the encroaching morning became more of a draining irritation. With a steady exhale, he pulled the horses to a stop and ducked beneath the tarp into the shade of the caravan. Immediately, the filtered sunlight was a relief to his eyes.

Lisa looked up at him from her spot against a wooden beam, her expression serene. Alucard’s leather coat seemed large over her thinner shoulders, concealing her head with its high collar. It squeaked slightly when her back moved against the wooden arch behind her.

Alucard acknowledged her with a tilt of his head.

Across from her, Trevor had fallen asleep on his stomach, his head twisted to the side uncomfortably and arms splayed out on the wooden floor. Beside him, Sypha had cocooned herself in the blankets, allowing only her forehead and messy strawberry blonde hair to be visible.

Alucard’s feet were oddly quiet as he moved over the wooden flooring to the sleeping Speaker. His hands wrapped around her shoulders, and he shook her, just once, with a low mutter of her name. She mumbled an incomprehensible counterargument and burrowed further within her blankets.

He smirked and shook her once more, which earned him a narrow-eyed glare.

“If you want to wake Trevor up before noon, you’re welcome to,” he told her.

_That_ woke her up. Neither of them wanted to deal with a Belmont in the morning. With a groan, she flopped onto her back. “This floor was not intended to be slept on.”

“I’m sure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You slept in a coffin,” she accused.

“More comfortable than this, I would say.” He extended his hand to help her up, which she accepted. His hand was cold against hers. “The horses need to be fed,” he informed her. “I would volunteer, but animals tend to be upset by my presence.”

Which was an irritating byproduct of his vampiric heritage. Unless he trained the creature from its youth, animals instinctively tried to avoid him.

Sypha had grown up around horses, so she didn’t mind taking over the task of caring for the creatures. The caravan was stocked with various provisions: Horse feed, fruits and vegetables, pots and pans, blankets -- All the necessities for travel. The universe finally cut them a break from all the misfortunate of their parallel life.

Alucard took a seat next to his mother. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

Lisa shifted and tucked her legs more comfortably to her side. “The Belmont snores. Honestly, it's no wonder Vlad dislikes the family. You'd have to hide in a coffin and bury yourself underground just to escape the sound.”

He laughed, relaxing against the wooden arch. One leg propped up, and he rested an arm across it. Lisa’s laugh was more subdued, and she hid it behind a raised palm to her mouth.

The situation was therapeutic. His mother was one of the few people he felt comfortable enough to smile around. After all, smiling meant fangs and to nearly all humans, fangs meant danger. In the eyes of the mortal populace, there was little difference between a friendly expression and the bearing of teeth in a threat. He’d learned the lesson long ago when he was far too young to truly comprehend the intricacies of vampire and human interactions; back when he didn’t understand how he was different, only how others gazed at him warily or gave him a wide berth when his mother brought him into town.

And how much it meant to him when he was finally able to play with the other children. He was shy, yes, overly polite, and always looked to his mother for the proper responses. When left alone with those his age, he was a bit lost on how to act, what to do or say. But the other children accepted him well enough. They found his eye color fascinating and were more in awe of his strength than frightened. One girl in particular, a pretty brunette with her hair wound in braids around her head, bombarded him with questions: Where did he come from? Were his eyes natural? Did they have the ability to hypnotize?

Innocent questions, bereft of fear. And he’d answered to the best of his ability while also leaving out the more condemning details: He came from a solitary home far away. Yes, his eyes were entirely natural. No, he could not hypnotize others, though perhaps one day he’d develop the ability like his father.

“And what is your father?” the girl asked. There was no accusation in her tone; only simple, naive curiosity.

“A scientist,” the young Adrian had answered, just as naive.

Another boy piped up: “Scientists don’t have eerie eyes and fangs.”

“Some do.”

Those were such simpler times.

After that day, the parents forbid their children to ever speak to the Tepes family ever again. From that prejudice grew hate in the form of cruel glares and whispers.

Despite all of that, the brunette girl always treated him with kindness, even though she wasn’t permitted to go near him. She often would smile at him from across the cobbled street, and he would smile back -- Lips closed to hide his fangs.

Soon, he didn't bother returning to the village at all.

Alucard closed his eyes and sighed. What ever happened to that girl? Had she survived Dracula’s wrath in their past life? He hoped she was doing well.

A sudden snore snapped his attention back to the present and to Trevor’s splayed out form in front of him. The hunter shifted in his sleep, twitched his hand, then fell still once more.

“Honestly, how has he survived this long?” Lisa mock-complained, her lips twisting with poorly concealed humor.

“Sheer stubbornness,” Alucard answered, just as amused.

“You know, it’s interesting to me,” she said, “how a famous hunter trusts a half-vampire enough to sleep so soundly in his presence. Not that I’m complaining. I just find it… odd is all.”

He curled his fingers to his palm, released it. “He didn’t always."

“Trust you?”

“Trust anyone, really.”

Lisa nodded. “That’s…. Quite sad.” She tucked a loose strand of messy blonde hair behind her ear with a delicate hand. “I heard what happened to the Belmont family,” she said. “The church’s betrayal, I mean. Would you believe Vlad was upset to hear of their passing?”

He scoffed with wry amusement. “That’s surprising.”

“Hmm. He called them the greatest foes of his kind, but I believe he respected them too. I think he considered their passing to be a rather tragic end to the family.” Her hand waved to Trevor’s sleeping form. “It seems like the great Belmont family isn’t entirely gone yet.”

A loud, stuttering snore broke through the calm morning air. Lisa winced.

“Believe it or not,” Alucard said, his inhuman eyes glittering with amusement, “If you strip away the alcoholism and bitterness, there is quite a bit worthy of respect there. He’s a good fighter and, despite his words, a good man. Well worthy of the Belmont name.” And thank god Trevor wasn’t awake to hear him admit that.

“He would have to be a good person to extend his friendship to you. And the Speaker -- Sypha. She’s very lovely. I quite like her” Her mouth curved into a grin, and she nudged him with an elbow. “Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and her? Or the Belmont, for that matter?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation, but a grin threatened to curve his lips. “Mother...

“What?” she asked defensively. “I get to ask all the mom questions. You can’t blame me for wanting to see my little boy happy.”

His expression softened. He wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders, smoothing down unkempt hair with a pale hand as he did so. Gently, well aware of the sort of strength he could wield, he pulled her against his side and placed a soft kiss against her head. “I am happy,” he answered against her hair, and the words were more honest than they had been in years.

She relaxed against him. “That’s all I want. My family to be happy and accepted and loved.”

Alucard wanted to respond, _And I just want my family to live._ But those words were too much, too heavy, and voided by recent events.

The caravan rocked into motion as Sypha, from the front of the caravan, lead them forward. The occupants steadied themselves for the rough start before the movement evened out onto the road. Trevor grumbled a bit in his sleep at the disturbance, but fell back into a deep slumber a second later.

“How are your legs?” Alucard asked.

Lisa shrugged. “They’re healing swiftly. The medicine you brought certainly helped with that. I believe the wounds looked worse than they actually were.” Her gaze went distant as she took in the sight of her bandaged feet. “I’m glad it was you that found me and not Vlad. I dread to think what he would have done.”

Alucard closed his eyes and breathed in. He knew what his father would have done, and it was probably worse than Lisa had ever dreamed. “He would go mad without you.”

He didn’t mean to say it. After all, his mother had enough worries in her life -- Her husband’s morality being one of them. But there it was, the quiet words tumbling from his mouth so easily.

And Lisa looked impossibly sad. “Do you think so? He’s come so far, Adrian. He’s actually interacting with the human world.”

“He holds love for you, Mother. Not the human world.”

“I am human,” she argued like she had a hundred times in the past.

“An exception to the rule, not a true example. He sees you differently than the others. You know this.”

“But he can change. He already has, Adrian. Every day, he’s just a bit more human.”

Alucard closed his eyes. His hands tightened into fists. When he spoke, there was a flash of fang. “But he’s not human. You can’t just change what he is because you love him.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Her words were stronger then, more defensive. “Do you think I don’t see what he is every time I look at him and see red eyes and sharp teeth? Or even you, for that matter. I love both of you for you, for your mind and heart, and I wouldn’t change anything about _what_ you are. I just want you to be kind, Adrian. Not decorate your lawns with impaled corpses.”  She fell quiet, the muscles of her jaw tensing. Her eyes traveled over his face, examining his profile, trying to read something so very important. She delicately reached up and touched his chin, pulled his gaze to her. There was so much pain there, deep in his solemn expression. Pain and fear and regret well beyond his years. “What happened?” she whispered. “You’ve never spoken about your father like this before. Why are you arguing this so vehemently?”

Because hundreds of people died when his mother burned?

Because his father had been driven insane because of love?

Because he himself had brutally murdered his father for humanity and for her?

He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, turning to gaze forward into nothing in particular.

“Promise me something, Adrian,” Lisa said, moving her hand to his shoulder. “Promise me that if something happens to me, no matter what it is, you’ll keep Vlad from doing something terrible. Help him understand that there _is_ good in humanity and that I wasn’t just an exception. Please.”

An image of his father, reaching for him, pleading. _“My son…”_

His father dying because of him...

Lisa lifted herself on her knees, her fingers tightening around her son’s muscular upper arm, and placed a soft, fleeting kiss against his cheek. “I love you, Adrian. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”

Alucard closed his eyes, seeing red dance behind his eyelids. God, his chest hurt. The sunlight pulled at the corner of his consciousness, and he suddenly felt so very tired.

His mother sighed and relaxed against his side, using his oversized coat as a makeshift blanket. She drifted to sleep there, peacefully against his side, completely ignorant to the images and thoughts plaguing her son’s guilty conscience.

*****************************************************

Trevor Belmont could be called many things. Brash. Uncouth. Rude. Often unhygienic. Loyal when he wanted to be.

He was not, however, an idiot. He had to have some semblance of sense in that dense head of his to survive so long.

Sunset had finally fallen. It would be another day till they reached the next town, especially if they stopped that night to make camp. Trevor had been put in charge of the caravan, and for the longest while, he absently listened to Lisa, Alucard, and Sypha talk casually in the back. The subject of their conversation hadn’t been anything important, bordering on easygoing nothingness, but it was pleasant to listen to nonetheless. Before long, they fell into a relaxed silence, and he had nothing to listen to but the indifferent hum of nature.

He pulled the horses to a stop, looked up to the gradually darkening sky, crisp with the warm and cool breeze of summer nights. “I’m going to take a piss,” he announced behind him in case anyone was listening. But there was no answer, so he grunted a response and hopped down to the dirt road beneath him.

The forest had grown eerily silent as he trudged to the road’s edge and unlaced his pants to relieve himself. He tilted his head back as he did so, listening to the heavy stream of urine hitting the ground in the utter quiet.

A chill fluttered down his spine; his shoulders tensed. Something wasn’t right. The woods were too quiet, too still, like the wildlife had all simultaneously decided to hold their breath. His eyes narrowed, and he slowly examined his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except….

There, in the distance to his right, a bright glow in the shadows of the trees, swaying like the wind disturbed it.

Trevor considered it for a moment, his mind racing through his memorized knowledge of inhuman beasts. A fairy circle? No, not quite… Too solid. More like a Will-o’-the-Wisp. Either way, nothing good could come of eerie magic in the middle of nowhere.

So he redid the laces on his pants and turned on heel to march back to the motionless caravan….

Only to stop once more. No one had seen a Will-o’-the-Wisp in this part of the woods for decades. Most people thought they no longer existed. Then what was he seeing? Was it a danger to travelers along this road?

He sighed, his eyes rolling in exasperation. “Dammit,” he muttered to himself and turned to march toward the flickering light in the middle of nowhere.

Trevor Belmont was no idiot.

Except on the occasions that he absolutely was.

Despite his weight, Trevor had trained himself to be a silent hunter. His skilled feet wasn’t quite as unnoticable as a vampire’s, but it was damn closed for a human.  His body had tensed for any sudden movement. The light didn’t retreat as he approached it, bobbing mechanically with no signs of intelligence.

Soon, he was close enough to see that the light was indeed a lantern -- Albeit one that was attached to a curved staff. Beneath that staff was a woman, old and grey, barely more than a skeleton herself. Her skin was stretched taut over fragile bones, her facial features sharp and gaunt. Her white hair surrounded her head in brittle strands, unkempt like a local madwoman. Her torn and bedraggled clothes emphasized that disheveled appearance.

And around her eyes was a wrapped bandage that coiled a few times around her head, rendering her blind.

“Yeah….” Trevor muttered to himself. “Fuck that.” He turned around. “Nope. Gonna pretend this didn’t happen.” Two steps,  then --

“Trevor Belmont.”

He gritted his teeth together. “Fuck.”

The woman’s voice was delicate, low with age, but still iron with confidence. “Will you not speak to an old woman?”

He addressed her with a scowl. “Old woman, yeah. Old witch in the middle of the woods with a blindfold on? Yeah, not dealing with this shit today.”

“So rude, last son of Belmont. What would your family say?”

“Not much, considering they’re dead now. But hey, they’d probably be all about dealing with you. Guess that’s why they’re dead now, huh?”

She grinned, showing off her blackened crooked teeth. “I think the dead says quite a bit, especially when they’re Belmonts. Even now.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning we’re having this conversation, you and I. And you, Trevor Belmont, died once.”

He froze.

“Ah.” She tilted her head in amusement. “I got your attention, didn’t I?” Her crooked finger pointed to him. It looked like it had once been broken in multiple places. “I was there, in that other time. I watched you die in the war.”

His lips curved into a scowl, but his heart was racing. “Didn’t think to help me, huh? Who’s rude now?”

“I did help you, hunter. You asked a request and I answered. We made a deal, and I have not forgotten.”

Fuck. That voice back then…

Trevor had said, _I’d give anything to save them._

His throat was suddenly dry. He tried to hide his apprehension with a nonchalant expression. “So what are you?”

The woman shrugged. Her hand tightened around her staff. “There are different names for me in every culture. Death, maybe? But that’s not entirely accurate either. The closest, I believe, are the Greek’s idea of Fates. I suppose that’s what you could call me. A Fate, like my sisters and my sisters before me.”

“And what, I owe you my soul now? We made a deal and you brought us back to take our souls?”

“Nothing nearly so dramatic, dear boy. What would I do with your souls? I have all souls in the end anyway. No.” She shook her head and licked her chapped lips. “No, I want to see how this plays out. What are lives, but stories? And I do enjoy a good tale. So tell me a story, Trevor Belmont. Tell me how you would stop Carmilla.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, squinting at her with suspicion traced over his expression. “That’s it? Just do my thing and you want nothing else?”

“Mm. Not quite. You see, I’m still offering you something incredibly valuable. When this story draws to a close, I will take something from you to complete this transaction.”

“And what would that be?”

“That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it? What kind of story would that be?” She grinned again, and the threat of danger crept down his neck. “No, I will claim what is mine at the end. And believe me, Belmont, it will be something you will miss.”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “I’ll protect them. I always will.”

The old woman’s expression softened very slightly. “Yes. I know you will. I’m counting on it.” She stood, but her back remained hunched over. “Don’t make this transaction for naught. Either way, I will be getting my payment. Don’t waste your chance, Belmont. That is my final advice to you.” She motioned behind him, still clutching her staff as it held her up. “Look. Your friends are awake now.”

He turned, just slightly, and the woman was gone.

The forest immediately breathed back to life. The birds chirped; the wind rustled the leaves. Even the sky seemed to brighten into a more comforting dusk.

Trevor didn’t move for a long while. Back then, in that other time, what agreement had he made with this creature, this Fate? His words weren’t exactly remembered clearly.

_Anything_ , he had said…. He knew that word was spoken.

Would he really give anything to save the people he cared about?

With resolve, he realized that yes. No matter what, they were the most important thing to him.

Unsettled still, he made his way back to the caravan, determined to keep the ominous conversation to himself.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ominous foreshadowing there, huh?


	8. Me and the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust both strengthens and crumbles. Paranoia builds. Sypha dreams of a happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this chapter took me quite a while to write, and I apologize for that. The delay was for a few reasons:  
> 1) Life kinda got in the way.  
> 2) I had planned this chapter ages ago, yet I read a chapter in RoxinSox's lovely fanfiction "Misfits Make Their Own Family," and I found that one of their chapters was eerily similar to a conversation in this chapter. This was merely an odd coincidence, and I considered changing how things went, but I couldn't figure out how since I was building to this catalyst and a lot of future plot points depended on this. In the end, I decided to just go with what I originally planned and note to all of you that I do realize how it probably looks. I did write this after reading RoxinSox's chapter, so I'm sure there are some subconscious influences at work as well. That said, "Misfits Make Their Own Family" is a wonderful fanfiction that you should check out. It's quite different from this story (other than the topic of this one conversation), has some lovely interaction between the trio, and I think you all would enjoy it.
> 
> As I hope you'll enjoy my story as well! 
> 
> Music of the Day: Me and the Devil by Soap and Skin (A lovely morose cover of the classic Blues song by Robert Johnson)

Chapter 8  
Me and the Devil

It was nightfall when Sypha suggested setting up camp. The horses needed to rest, and it was far enough away from the town to start a fire without drawing attention.

The night was peaceful. Lisa Tepes sat near the campfire, her legs tucked gracefully to the side. She was determined to leave the caravan on her own and walk into camp herself, much to the concern of Alucard, who insisted he could carry her until her feet healed. The blonde woman turned out to be just as stubborn as anyone would expect Dracula's bride to be.

After a bit of reassurance and debate, Lisa finally convinced Alucard to go gather them something for dinner -- a rabbit, maybe, wouldn't that be nice? It was a nice diversion, and one that left Trevor and Sypha alone with Mrs Tepes.

Pots and teacups had been found within the caravan, much to Lisa’s delight. Sypha watched the older woman fix their late night tea. Each motion was confident, yet delicate -- Measuring out the tea leaves with thin hands, carefully lining up the cups on a slightly rusting tray, and timing out the length of time their water boiled.

Lisa Tepes was not what Sypha expected.

Though to be fair, Sypha wasn’t sure what she’d expected in the first place. For so long, Lisa had been a ghost of the past, a mythical woman that had captured the hearts of merciless vampires.

And yet there she was -- real, alive, and entirely fragile. As was the fate of this world.

“Do you like sugar with your tea, Sypha?” she asked.

“Oh, plain please, thank you.”

"And you, Trevor?"

The Belmont blinked at the woman from the steps of the caravan. His eyes were glazed with distraction; He’d been quite distant all night. “Uh, never had it.”

“Then allow me to introduce you.” She smiled a mother’s smile and poured the steaming water into three stone cups. A fourth had been set aside-- For Alucard’s return, no doubt. “This is imported from China -- A black tea with spices. I’m fond of it, but it’s hard to come by.”

“And expensive?” Sypha questioned with wide blue eyes.

She hummed a non committal answer. “I save it for special occasions or days when the world seems particularly dark.” With steady hands, she passed one cup to Sypha, who in turn passed it to Trevor. Sypha then accepted her own cup, inhaling the aroma with a slight grin.

“I would like to thank the two of you,” Lisa said, straightening her back in a formal fashion. “You stood up to those villagers for my sake, even knowing who I am. And you accepted Adrian while knowing what he is.” Her thin fingers wrapped around her stone mug. The light of the fire caught on her gold wedding band. “I can’t tell you how important that is to me, that you’d accept him. Humans have always had a difficult time with him, and I worried he’d never find someone that could see past his vampire heritage. But here you are. And a Belmont no less!” She smiled widely. “It gives me hope that my dream isn’t quite so far away; that humans and vampires can find a way to coexist peacefully.”

Trevor’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Right, cause I’m sure cuddling up to a vampire is the world everyone wants to live in.”

Lisa grinned and shrugged. “I do it nearly every night.” And she took a sip of her tea.

Sypha laughed. Trevor’s face lit into a bright red as he turned to look into the woods.

The area fell into a comfortable silence as the three enjoyed their tea -- Which Sypha did like, she realized, and judging from the way Trevor eagerly downed his like a tankard of ale, he did too. It was smooth, pleasantly bitter, with a very slight sweetness. A rich family’s drink. How interesting. Speakers were not a materialistic people -- Certainly not like the church and most of Romania-- But she could still appreciate the finer things in life, such as a proper drink.

A chirp cut through the air and drew their attention upward. There, small in the sky, fluttered a bird -- no, too erratic -- A bat, rather, its wings rapidly beating. A tiny pinprick of red light glittered down at them before the creature descended downward. Sypha merely raised her eyebrows. Trevor on the other hand, stood and reached for his whip with his free hand. His teacup remained awkwardly in his grip.

Lisa raised her cupped hands to accept the flying animal. It fluttered about her for a moment before gracefully landing in her palms.

“That’s a vampire bat,” Trevor accused.

“Yes.” Her fingers scratched the small creature’s skull, and it eagerly rolled its head to be pet. “Vlad sent her.”

Even as the undead creature flattened itself obediently to offer Lisa the note attached to its back, Trevor seemed unsure. It was larger than a normal bat; its teeth longer and made for rending flesh. As Lisa unfolded the small paper, the bat fluttered to her neck and burrowed beneath her hair, which did nothing to assuage the growing unease in Trevor.

She explained as she read: “I sent my husband a letter while you two slept, explaining that I was fine and safe with Adrian.” Her eyes darted upwards to them briefly. “I didn’t mention either of you. Vlad can be paranoid and doesn't easily trust humans. I hope you understand." Her attention returned to the letter. "I want to keep Vlad away from this situation until I can explain it in a proper way."

Sypha nodded. She honestly didn’t want to be anywhere near Dracula either.

“Ah, excellent,” Lisa said, her voice slightly lighter. “He wants to meet me and Adrian at his castle in two day’s time. That should give us plenty of time to prepare and travel there.” She reached for the bat burrowed into the warmth of her neck. “Tell him it’s an excellent idea,” she said,and placed a small kiss on the crown of the creatures head -- Much to the horror of Trevor, who looked at her like she had gone mad. “Thank you, my friend.” The vampire bat squeaked once then took to the skies in a flurry of wings.

Trevor didn’t relax until the undead beast was a mere dot in the sky. “So this whole thing really doesn’t bother you at all?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to Lisa.

“What do you mean?”

His hands flailed into the air. “Monsters. Vampires. Undead things.”

She considered it for a moment, tilting her head back to the stars. “Sometimes, certain aspects of it bother me -- There exists dark creatures that have lost all humanity over the centuries, who hunt innocents with no remorse. Then there are those with some degree of moral compass, who only seek criminals and murderers to hunt.” She shrugged. “But there are humans that have lost their humanity too. The world is not entirely divided so neatly between good and evil. Sometimes, it’s a matter of perspective and understanding. You can’t expect a vampire to entirely have the same... “ She considered her words, lowering her gaze and bringing her fingers to her chin. “Instincts and understanding, I suppose you could say.”

“I don’t understand,” Sypha responded softly, tilting her head so a stray lock of hair fell in front of one eye. “Vampires hunt humans. How can that possibly be looked in a positive light?”

“Just because something is different and has fangs does not mean it’s evil, and the things you so adamantly label as horrible acts can be looked at differently. You should know that. You trust my son.”

Trevor scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Alucard doesn’t drink blood.”

Her head jerked toward him suddenly, her eyebrows lifting high. “Pardon?”

“Your son. You know, Adrian? He’s not full vampire; He doesn’t drink human blood.”

Her eyebrows drew together; Concern weighed on her face. Her fingers drummed against her thigh -- a nervous gesture.

Trevor studied her, his own expression growing thoughtful. “Does he?”

 

She looked away toward the fire with what was meant to be a nonchalant shrug. Her answer was a vague hum.

The air was suddenly thick. Sypha looked between the two of them, the wheels already rapidly turning. The sudden realization hit her in the stomach like a suckerpunch. It was all so obvious; why hadn’t she seen it before?

She examined Trevor, whose muscles were tense and whose eyebrows were knotted together. He blinked, then carefully smoothed his rugged features into a mask of indifference. But she had seen it, his concern, his suspicion. Had he reached the same conclusion she did? Was she imagining things suddenly?

She thought back to earlier, when Lisa had asked Alucard how many people he had killed.

He had said two. He’d killed someone in town.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. A frigid cold rushed through her veins, and she realized she’d tapped into her powers subconsciously. When she looked down, a frost was clinging to her fingers. Suddenly jittery, she shook the thin crust of ice from her fingers.

Did Alucard really need to drink blood?

The rustling of leaves signalled the Dhampir’s return. A few large hares were carried delicately in his hands -- Tied together with a rope and dangling neatly from his fingers; their dinner for the night. Lisa rose to collect the bounty from her son. “These are wonderful, Adrian. We can easily split these up -- There should be enough to carry us over into tomorrow.”

A casual wave of his hand dismissed the thought. “I’m not hungry. You three split it.”

Trevor’s sky blue eyes were sharply critical, cold and suspicious in a way they hadn’t been since those first few trying days.

No. Sypha refused for distrust to build between them again. It had already been difficult enough the first time around; They had come so far, seen so much -- Fought for each other till the death. Time had already rewound this story far enough; their feelings toward each other couldn’t revert too.

She had to talk to Alucard.

********************************************

The hours passed calmly amongst their camp. The rabbit was appreciated and carefully prepared -- and quite delicious after the meager scraps of food they’d been eating. Alucard didn’t partake, but he gladly accepted tea when offered.

He insisted on keeping watch while his human companions rested. “I’d rather sleep during the day if you don’t mind,” he said, and smiled affectionately in a way that made one fang peak out against his bottom lip.

Cute, Sypha thought. And then remembered her earlier suspicions and rubbed her hands against her upper arms.

So the three humans retired for the night within the covered wagon. It was crowded for the three of them to all sleep on the floor, but with her family being a nomadic people, Sypha was used to slightly packed quarters.

She waited until all was still before slowly and quietly rising from her floorspace, stepping delicately over Trevor’s feet, and padding barefoot outside. The fire had lulled to hardly more than red embers. She squinted her eyes to adjust to the heavy darkness of the woods.

Alucard was sitting across from camp, at the edge of the treeline. His back was to a tree, and he held a paper on his raised knees and graphite in his fingers, utterly still but for the movement of his hand.

Her nerves fluttered over her skin, and Sypha wondered why. She trusted Alucard -- she still did. But confronting him on such a delicate subject was nerve-wracking.

He didn’t respond immediately when she approached, his attention focused intently on the subject of whatever he was drawing. She wondered if she’d miraculously managed to sneak up on the dhampir. But then he raised those bright golden eyes and arched a handsome brow. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his deep voice a gentle whisper.

“It’s been hard to rest lately.”

His expression didn’t exactly change, but sorrow tinted his face. He raised a hand and motioned to the spot beside him in a silent invite. She took his offer, leaning her head back against the tree trunk.

A beat of silence passed between them. Her gaze wandered to his sketches. There was Dracula, his mother, the castle, a cabin -- And both her and Trevor. He was talented in drawing, she noted. The shading was impeccable, each line drawn with delicate care. Graphite stained his fingers as he carefully shaded the stubble on Trevor’s face.

As though noticing her attention, he stated softly, “Drawing calms me.”

“You’re quite good at it,” she responded. “Though I haven’t seen you sleep lately either.”

“I’ve been restless. It’s nothing to worry about.”

But she knew what was plaguing him -- what was plaguing all of them; The way Trevor kept gasping awake in the night, sweat pouring down his face and locks of deep brown hair sticking to his brow. The images that came unbidden every time Sypha closed her eyes:

The spike driven through Alucard’s chest.

Trevor’s blood pooling in the gravel.

She loved them, and hell nor Carmilla nor biology could separate them.

She inhaled deeply. “Alucard.” And then a pause, a reevaluation. “Adrian?”

The graphite stopped its motion on the sheet, and he looked to her, eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Do you prefer Adrian?” Sypha asked.

He blinked slowly, trailing his eyes over her gentle heart-shaped face. “If you wish to call me that, you may.” Then his gaze lingered on her lips for a heartbeat before he returned to his drawing. “My mother gave me the name. It is reserved for those close to me.”

“And you don’t mind me using it?”

“Not you specifically.”

She bit her bottom lip, anxiety rising. How to approach the next subject? Her hands twisted in her white clothing and balled into fists. “Why didn’t you tell me you had to drink blood?”

The graphite jerked in his hand, drawing a harsh line over Trevor’s face. He spun to face her, lips separate to show just a hint of fang, eyes round with shock.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she unabashedly met his gaze. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she was certain he could hear it. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

His mouth moved as though floundering for the right words. He searched her face like assembling a puzzle. “I…” The paper and graphite fell carelessly to his side. “I’m not sure…” He hesitated again. In any other situation, it would have been comical; He was normally so collected and eloquent in his speech.

“Yes or no, Alucard.” Her words came out too harsh, so she retraced her steps. “Adrian.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. His hands curled into a fist around his knee. “Yes.”

“Human blood.”

“Yes.”

Up until that point, Sypha had been holding off on the slight hope that it was all a misunderstanding; that her imagination had ran away from her. With his admission, that hope broke apart and crumbled. She leaned back, distancing herself from him, from the situation.

He must have noticed her wariness because he hastily added, “I don’t kill when I feed. Please don’t think that. Vampires don’t have to kill their...” He winced, inhaled, shoved his fingers through his hair. “This is quite difficult to explain."

“I have a lot of questions.”

“Of course you do.” His eyes closed as he gathered his composure. He grit his teeth together. “There are many side effects to my heredity. I believe you already know a great many of them. Unfortunately, a need for blood is one of them.”

Something shifted within few chest, alighting quickly like a ball of flame. "All this time, you've been lying to us! How could you?”

He watched sparks dance around her skin. "Not lying exactly. You’ve never asked, and how could I breach that topic? ‘Please allow me to fight by your side. And by the way, I feed from your kind.’”

“You could have trusted us.” The anger mingled with sadness at his blatant lack of faith. “After all of this, everything we’ve been through, you could have at least trusted us.” She pointed a sharp finger into the center of his chest.

Alucard sighed and hesitantly placed a hand over hers. She jerked it away. “Sypha, please listen to me. If either of you knew I maintained a thirst for blood, you would never have given me a chance.”

Sypha wanted to deny it, to say that she would have offered him the benefit of a doubt, but was that true? Trevor certainly wouldn’t have. Those first few days had been so tenuous, tensions thick as they marched into battle. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “You had so many opportunities since then.”

“I have. It was wrong of me.” The gold of his eyes was clear in the dark; bold and inhuman and beseeching. “Please understand, Sypha. Dancing around the subject of what I am was something I learned at a young age.”

“We’re not common villagers,” she stated.

“No,” he answered. “You are not.”

Her fingers combed through her short strawberry hair, making it stick up in messy ways. She consciously leveled out her breathing. “I would be lying if I said this didn’t disturb me,” she said at last. “But I’m willing to try to understand. You’re not evil. I know that. Trevor knows that. You have a good heart.”

“A good heart doesn’t save a person from angry villagers.” The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Or determined hunters and angry speakers. But then you and Trevor came along.” He laughed mirthlessly. “A hunter and a speaker, of all things.”

“Does it have to be humans? What about animals?”

“Animals… help to some degree, and some are not quite so unpleasant. I suppose if I had to choose, pigs have a similar taste.” He frowned as though he’d said too much and shifted uncomfortably. “But eventually, it must be human blood. That’s what vampires were meant to hunt; not animals. Even though I am only half, my biology is close enough that this rule applies to me too. I would be hardly more than a sickly skeleton if I only drank animal blood.”

Sypha processed this with a carefully neutral expression. The vision of a thin, starved, weak Adrian Tepes came to mind, and it bothered her. Really, what choice did he have?

Her hands curled around his -- An extension of forgiveness, though her expression remained solemn. In his anxiety, his nails had lengthened, and the sharp points pricked against her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “How do you do it?”

He tilted his head back, took a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly. “I have the ability to put humans in a thrall.”

“Like the owner of the caravan.”

“Yes, exactly the same. It doesn’t truly harm them, and I can feed without causing trouble. They remember nothing afterward. I don’t need much to maintain myself, and it’s certainly not an every night thing. The bite itself doesn’t hurt unless I will it to. Amongst willing humans, some even find it quite pleasant.”

“Oh…” Her eyes widened. “Oh!” Her cheeks tinted a precious shade of pink, and he laughed a true laugh. The sound was contagious, and she couldn’t help but smile herself. But then her attention was drawn to his fangs, to the sharpness and purpose. He noticed this and immediately sobered.

“Sypha,” he said, and leaned forward, cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. “Please don’t let this change the way you view me. Please don’t worry that I’ll ever take from you or Trevor.”

She stared at him, hard. “You said they don’t remember… Have you ever…?” When he tilted his head in confusion, she elaborated. “From me and Trevor, I mean.”

Realization hit him harshly, and he jerked back. “No, of course not! Not from either of you. How could you think that?”

She gave him a dry look, one eyebrow raised and eyes dull. “Oh, I don’t know, it’s not like you’ve been keeping a massive secret hidden from us.”

He cringed at the accusation. “I should have had more faith in the both of you..”

With a dramatic sigh, Sypha relaxed her head back against the tree behind her. “Such a merry band we are,” she muttered. Still though, she leaned closer to him because --

Because dammit, even after all of this, she cared for him.

He wrapped his arm around her slight shoulders and pulled her closer, so that his cheek rested against the crown of her head. He was still -- more still than a human, perhaps a few degrees colder, but also comforting and familiar in a way that made her feel at home.

The area fell into a quiet. The sky had clouded over, concealing the light of the moon and casting the area into shadows. The breeze was cool and biting against her bare ankles. Her eyes closed.

"It's okay," she said softly, half to herself and half to him. "I mean. It's not okay, but it also is, you know?"

He let out a harsh, bitter laugh at her paradox. His breath ghosted against her hair.

“Trevor will forgive you too,” she continued. “I know he will. He cares for you more than he shows.”

“Perhaps,” Alucard said. He combed his fingers through her hair. “Growing up, I never thought of myself as a monster. I don’t even think I knew what it meant. My parents certainly didn’t make a big deal out of it. My powers were just another milestone in life: My first words, my first steps, the first time I levitated. It was all normal. I didn’t understand why my mother couldn’t transform or move fast or float like me or my father, but it hardly mattered. And then I was told of the Belmonts, the famous family that would hunt me and my father down if they ever found out about us. It was the first hint that I was…. Different, perhaps viewed as monstrous. Most kids fear night creatures. I feared the Belmonts.”

Sypha traced her finger along the v of his shirt’s neckline. His scar was missing, she noticed. His chest was pale and unblemished as though he had never been stricken down, and she marveled at the intricacies of time travel. Her heart clenched at the thought of losing him again. “Yet here we all are.”

“Here we are," he repeated. "You and Trevor mean more to me than you know. To a frightening degree. I remember seeing you two stricken down, and how helpless I was to stop it. Sypha, I would do anything to save you from that awful fate. I would lay down my life for either of you, but I fear that you both will outgrow your need of me and leave me behind. Just… another monster in your past.”

Sypha untangled herself from him so she could look him in the eye. Her hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind his slightly tapered ear before trailing down his temple to curve and cup his cheek. She ran her thumb along his high cheek bone. “Oh, Adrian, you absolute idiot. We know what you are, and we love you.” She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss directly under his eye. “You’re not a monster. No matter what, you’re as human as any of us.” Another kiss, a bit lower this time. “We’d never leave you behind. We love you.” Her lips met the edges of his, and she felt his intake of breath. “I love you.” Softly, her lips brushed against his, ghostlike and powerful. The kiss lingered against him for a chaste amount of time before she pulled away and met his wide, surprised stare. “Is this okay?” she asked.

Adrian didn’t answer immediately; Concern darkened her gentle demeanor. And then he wrapped a hand against the back of her neck and pulled her flush against him, his lips meeting hers with an urgency that surprised them both. She returned his enthusiasm with equal fervor, shifting to her knees so she was a bit taller and tangling her fingers through his blonde locks. They breathed each other in, their emotions too numerous and too tangled, fears and hope fluttering through their veins like wind in a thunderstorm.

Unbidden, tears stung Sypha’s eyes and streaked down her cheek. She backed away with a sharp intake of breath.

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked, swiping a stray tear from her jawline. “I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood--”

She silenced him with a hard, bruising kiss that was all too brief. More tears glistened along her lashes and rained down in rivulets. Her forehead pressed sharply against his. “You idiot.” Her voice quaked with desperation. “You absolute royal idiot. How could you die on us like that? How could you come back for us when we didn’t even have a chance? You could have lived, you complete thickheaded fool.” Her fist slammed against his chest with enough force to bruise a human man. Adrian merely winced. “Don’t you ever die on us again!”

He wrapped his arms around her once more and pulled her into a desperate embrace. Her tears soaked into his shirt, and he buried his nose into her hair. “None of us will die this time,” he promised, and his resolve strengthened even further. “I swear. I won’t allow it.”

“How can you promise that?” Her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Because I mean it. Even if I have to fight Death himself.” He smirked, allowing a small bit of levity into his voice. “And I’ve met Death. He’s not that impressive.”

She barked out an uncouth laugh. Her fists twisted into his shirt. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“We’ve all been bottling up emotions. There’s no weakness in any of this, and we don’t have to mention anything if you don’t want to.”

She turned her head to the side, gazing up at him with red, watery eyes. “I don’t regret kissing you.”

He was silent as he processed that. “What about Trevor?” he asked at last.

“I don’t mind sharing him.”

“--Because I thought you two were-- Wait, what?”

“What?”

They both blinked in confusion.

“Would that bother you?” Sypha asked, finally sitting back.

He considered it for a brief moment, then answered, “No. It wouldn’t. I find that my feelings for both of you are surprisingly similar.”

“Mine as well.”

“But I doubt that Trevor would--”

“I’ll talk to Trevor,” she interrupted. “I believe you’ll be surprised with his answer.”

“We’ll see.”

Sypha smiled softly, running her fingers through her hair and looking to the moon that was beginning to peak out from a cloud. “How long have we been here? I doubt I’ll be able to get any sleep after all of this.”

“Hmm.” He followed her gaze to the sky. “I could help with that, if you’d like.”

“Does your mother carry sleep medicines as well?”

“Nothing nearly so grounded.” His hands wrapped around hers, drawing her attention back to him. “I just need for you to trust me.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was thinking. Her heart sped up slightly, yet she met his stare and nodded. “Of course. Just… no more secrets, ok?”

“No more secrets,” he promised. His palm once more curled around her cheek, and she wrapped a hand around his wrist. “I just need you to relax.”

She tried to will her anxiety away, but it was a futile exercise. Her mind still raced, and tears still threatened to spill.

“Focus on me, Sypha.”

And she did, narrowing in on his golden eyes, on how they were so different from anything else she’d ever seen, how the color was a sea of liquid riches and warm moonlight and safety. They weren’t quite frightening in their supernatural quality; they were too familiar and gentle for that; too human in all their inhuman quality.

“Things will be okay,” Adrian was saying. They were, weren’t they? “We’re all together now. We have each other.” They could kiss each other in empty fields, Trevor with his irises like crystallized seas and Alucard with his eyes like aureate moonlight. And Sypha herself there between them, her light strawberry hair spread over the grass like a halo as she laughed into the open fields. They had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear; no immediate threat that threatened to tear them apart. They were safe and loved.

She sank into that dream like slipping under silk covers. Her body melted into rest, welcoming the pleasant feelings as she slid into unconscious.

Alucard pulled her sleeping form to him. His arms folded around her as he closed his eyes tight. A tear of his own streaked down his cheek and slid down her bare neck. He held her close as though afraid she would slip away.

Then with a deep breath, he gathered his cool composure and lifted her into his arms. Her head lulled against his chest.

The caravan was dark and quiet when he stepped into it. He glanced over his mother and Trevor, reassured at their state of rest, before stepping to Sypha’s bedspace and carefully, silently laying her there. He folded the covers around her, tucking her in with care like he remembered his parents doing when he was young. Then he leaned forward to brush his lips over her forehead. She muttered something incomprehensible and fell back into restful sleep.

With an affectionate smile, he turned and exited back into the comfort of the night.

In the near-impermeable shadows of the caravan, a very awake Trevor Belmont stared hard at Sypha, his eyes a critical and calculating blade in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through this break. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter and would like to offer support, here's my Ko-Fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/thebatmanda
> 
> I should be on a more regular posting schedule soon.


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